


Broken Crown

by HunkyMunky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst probably, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Game of Thrones References, Hunk/Shay - Freeform, Injury, It's a medieval universe so people are not so open minded, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Please read summary, Violence, mention of incest, shallura - Freeform, some homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-03-21 12:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunkyMunky/pseuds/HunkyMunky
Summary: A kingdom lies under a tyrant’s domain. The only hope for freedom is on the hands of the few who rule the Voltron provinces, the only part of the continent that remains unconquered. When their leader returns from a year of captivity, the five Lords of Voltron finally stand a chance against the Emperor and start plotting their counter-attack in behalf of the kingdom.This is a Medieval AU based on the universe of Game of Thrones TV series and books and Voltron: Legendary Defender.Please, be aware of the explicit rate. It’s a medieval universe on the verge of a war so there’ll be constant mentions of death, crime, violence, sex, driscriminations and prejudices. I’ll warn if the chapter contains explicit trigger scenes. But there’ll be mentions to them in nearly every chapter, so if it bothers you, please, do not read.It’s a fanfic I’ve had the idea of writing before season 3 was aired so I’m aware of the disconnections with the current canon plot of VLD. Also, most of them are made to fit in the story’s plot.Thank you for your attention and have a nice reading!





	1. Pilot: Dark Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you've read the notes at the summary, but I warn again: this fanfic is inspired by the Game of Thrones medieval universe. So, the mention and scenes of violence, erotic content, discriminations will be there. Whenever there are explicit trigger warning scenes, I'll say it in the chapter notes.
> 
> That aside, this first chapter is mostly the pilot chapter, explaining the context for the story to happen, without much character development. I hope you enjoy it and thank you!

The morning dawned cold and misty on that summer day. The sun could be seen on the horizon, touching the dark bark of the northern pine trees with its light. The forest, ancient as it could be, seemed to have every sprawling tree as one of its guardians. Sentinels scattered into its immensity, as if to protect the darkest of secrets or the most beautiful of creatures. The forests of the High North were not inhabited or violated since the beginning of times. But, on that specific day, a solo soul crawled for its life in the depth of the woods.

  
The sore figure was beneath a dark cloak, hiding his face under a thick and black hood. His movements were similar to the ones of a frightened animal during a hunt as he tried to get as far as possible from the northern lands. The young man did not know where he was exactly, but the organic smell and woody incense from centuries of cracked branches rotting was unmistakable. He also did not know how long it'd been since he entered the forest. The sun had gone away and returned several times as the days passed by during his walk. Each day being worse than the one that had come before.

The young adult tried to get himself warmer with soft hands movements, rubbing them around his arms. It was far from the winter, but the northern lands were never known for warm and nice climate. The forest’s fragrance suddenly was mixed with a weak smell of the man’s blood. He had a wound on his face that ran from one cheek to another. It went through his nose, making it harder to breathe properly. The stroke had not made a cut deep enough to stop his breathing, but it would definitely leave a scar. His right arm was damaged and numb. It was held by a piece of his coat on a strange position. The bruises were everywhere, violating the pale skin in tones of purple and red.

It was hard for the man to stay calm in the darkness and loneliness of the woods, where every noise could be a sign of your death and every shadow could be an enemy waiting to attack. Nights seemed to last entire days and minutes felt like hours when the sun was not yet showing in the east. The man was desperate. He wanted to scream, but noises weren’t welcomed. He couldn’t tell where he was, since every pine looked exactly the same. He couldn’t sleep. And every step seemed to bring him closer to his end. It was only after two days since he had last seen water that he found what he was looking for. The broken branches and scary trees gave place to less dark barks and sharp winds. After a couple of hours wandering among the trees, he spotted the first stumps. He smiled after realising he was no longer in the High North. The unique trees of the Voltron west provinces were famous in the whole continent because of its durability and strength. Lords from all over the world would pay mounts of coins to have a ship made of such material.

The man tried to move quicker when he heard the sound of iron hitting the hardwood. His steps were becoming more staggering and, at any point, he could fall. He had lost a lot of blood and the lack of water was finally hitting him. He stumbled a few times while going to the edge of the forest. There, some woodmen were working hard on extracting the trees. Some trunks were arranged in lines while three men were working on cutting a tree with an axe. The strange figure moved reluctantly to approach the workers. He opened his mouth slowly, but his voice seemed to be hidden inside of his body. He was nervous about trusting unknown men. His hands were sweaty and his bones seemed to have freezed with the cold wind. His legs started to ache after the adrenaline of escaping left his body. He fell on his knees in the middle of the way, trying to take deep breaths while his vision started to lose focus.

“Shit...” his voice was low and full of pain, a lost echo coming from the forest depths. He scowled at the metallic taste of the blood coming from the open wound and reached his tongue. The woodmen had not noticed the fallen man yet.

The young man started crawling on the floor, trying to reach the workers. His body was still complaining about the efforts he was putting it through. His movements, though brusque, were silent. His arms gave way and he fell on the floor. He was first spotted by the oldest of the woodmen. The old man noticed him while talking to his coworkers. He first glanced at the fallen body with disinterest. And it was only after realising the slow movements that he approached the young man.

“Bloody hell...” He said in low voice while the other men rushed to search for help. “Where did you come from? Nobody should go through the north woods…” The woodman helped the sore body carefully, laying him properly on the floor.

The young man raised his left hand slowly, trying to get closer to the eldest. His throat was sore and his body ached at any kind of movement. Even so, he rose his upper body slowly, reaching the old man shoulder. His hand was trembling while he took deep and quick breaths due to the effort. He leaned closer to the other body, scowling because of the pain.

“Stop moving!” The woodman warned. “We are not sure if you have any broken bones. And any move can make you get worse...”

“Take me to Lady Holt...” the young man spoke slowly and gasping. His voice was low and scratched. The eldest stared at him in disbelief.

\--//--

Rushed heavy steps echoed through the walkway defined by two long lines of armed sentinels. The purple curtains swinged with the sharp cold wind that filled the large hall. The tall room was illuminated by rusted iron chandeliers in which candles burned weakly. On the end of the line was the Galran throne: a short wall of pure steel with four large spikes pointed out of it as a star’s edges. In the middle of it, was a dark iron chair with thick purple silk covering the seat. It stood a few steps higher than the rest of the floor. The whole place was filled with a heavy air, as if ready to choke anything that wasn’t in the Emperor’s domain.

The anxious man kneeled before him, his heart beating in his throat. His spiky dark hair covered some of his sight when he stared up to his ruler with caution.

“Your Highness.” He spoke with a weak voice before bowing his head again.

“Rise, Commander Prorok.” Zarkon’s voice could make the bravest of men tremble as it was very deep and dry. “Have you crossed lengths to excuse yourself about why you let the Black Lord escape? You must have a very good reason, I suppose.”

“Your Highness, we had a large group of men guarding his cell, they have been slaughtered-“

“Your men were weak. The Empire is stronger without them. Fifteen men slaughtered by an invisible army?” Zarkon stared at him coldly. His helmet hid most of his face. The little bare skin showed a burning scar that came from the top of his head and mixed with his hard features.

“We’ve been searching for any traces that might lead us to the criminals, Your Highness.” Commander Prorok swallowed dry.

“With no results. Have you found his body yet?”

“No, Your Highness. I’m afraid he’s fled into the Dark Woods. It’s the only region we do not have troops surrounding, it’s very likely he’s dead.” Prorok’s grip on his own hands tightened behind his back.

“I do not work on probabilities.” The Emperor cut him, his bright eyes laid deadly upon the Commander. “I want his dead body, Commander Prorok. Tear down the Dark Woods if needed.”

“But, Your Highness, the Dark Woods should not be-“ The man protested, rising his voice.

“Are you deaf or a coward, Commander? Or perhaps your loyalty to me falters?”

“...Never, Your Highness.” Commander Prorok laid on one knee, bowing his head. “We shall search into the Dark Woods immediately. I’ll send a message.”

“What about the two other prisoners?” Zarkon tapped his fingers on the throne.

“Still in their cells, Your Highness.” Prorok stood in his knees but dared to look up at him.

“Your Highness, I also bring news regarding the current Lord Holt.” The Emperor replied with his gaze, a silent order to continue. “Our sources confirm, Your Highness, it’s her.”

\--//--

The damp wooden door was opened with a long strong pull, dragging its weight loudly. The Black Lord stepped against the dark rocks that were laid on the floor. The man made his way through the room towards the master chair at the edge of a long table. The Lord's dining room of the castle was, as the building itself, mostly black. The rocks that built the walls and floor were dim, the furniture was carved in the dark northern wood and the torches that lit the corridors up didn't brighten them very much.

On his back, as he entered the hall, followed the other four Paladins of Voltron: Lord McClain, Lord Garrett, Lord Kogane and Lord Holt. The Land of Voltron was a region ultimately ruled by the Black Lord, Takashi Shirogane, and his council. The last one was formed by the five Paladins who each ruled their own districts of the land. As a tradition, to represent their union, all Paladins wore fur cloaks of their Houses' respective color. In a line, the rulers headed inside the room and took place in their seats, finally reuniting after the Black Lord's return and recover.

By the Lord’s right, stood Keith Kogane, the current Lord of the Crimson Lands. His long black hair was tied in the back of his head, due to the formality of the meeting. A thin reddish brown fur cloak covered his shoulders and leather clothes covered his pale skin. His attire was close to a summer outfit as the Crimson Lands were the south of Voltron’s.

By Kogane's side, sat Lance McClain, The Lord of the Blue Bays. His brown skin contrasted with the grayish white fur that covered his neck and his eyes resembled his long navy blue cloak. He wore a serious expression, unusual to his playful way.

On the other side of the table, sat the newest member of the council: Lord Pidge Holt. According to Kogane’s report, he had been sitting there for almost a year now. Pidge Gunderson was an unheard nephew of Lord Samuel Holt that had taken the house’s lordship after Lord Samuel Holt, his son Matthew Holt and Lord Shirogane himself were taken prisoners of the Galra. The other remaining Holt, Katherine, had also been taken prisoner. Lord Pidge had a short light brown hair that were the same color of his eyes. The green moss colored cape he wore was about the double of his size.

By his side, stood Hunk Garrett, Lord of the Golden Valley. Very unlike Pidge, Hunk was the largest and strongest person in the room. A large mustard cloak of fur laid upon his broad shoulders. His hands and arms were decorated with golden bracelets and rings, shining against his dark skin.

Once they were all comfortable in their seats, Shiro straightened up in his chair with some effort. After almost a month, his body still wasn’t fully recovered from his rough journey back.

“We begin the Council now. I want a full report on what happened in my absent year.” He spoke soundly.

The First one to speak was the Yellow Lord, with a concerned look. “After you went missing, milord, most of our alliances have backed away due to the Galra’s strong domain. The Balmeran, the Olkari, all have cut most of their transactions with us. The Balmeran mines and Olkari wood are being severely extracted mostly for Galra army supplies. They’ve almost turned into colonies by now. The Galra have blocked most of their alternative transaction routes. There’s no direct military interference, but it’s only a matter of time until then. Most of the other houses have also been buying from the Galra, but not deliberately. They fear having the same fate as the Balmeran and the Olkari for financially siding with us.” He informed, crossing his arms over the table.

“Although our commerce in land has been weaker, our businesses off-shore have grown. We’ve started selling our products to the people of Arus.” The Blue Lord added, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“That’s not a reason to be proud of.” Pidge Holt warned Lance with a wary voice. “We rely financially almost entirely on the Blue Bays’ ports and their exportations.”

“Any important event not entirely related to our financial situation?” Shirogane interrupted, growing stressed as he heard the news.

“Besides Pidge Holt now ruling the Emerald Woodland, we also have Zarkon’s imminent control over our continent and our very likely defeat at any moment he decides to attack, because we’re that powerless. I don’t think I missed something, did I?” Keith Kogane finally spoke, angrily, as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re exaggerating.” Lance McClain notified with sharp eyes at the Red Lord. “We’re not powerless. We didn’t act before because we could not risk our leader’s and our fellows lords’ lives they had control over. We were planning a rescue, milord. For you and the Holt.” He justified, eyeing Shirogane.

“Enough.” The Lord’s firm and loud voice put the room in silence. The quietness lasted for long seconds before he spoke again. “Regarding our current financial situation and political surroundings, I’ll have written a full report over our actions so I can read during my recover. For now, do we have any suggestions on how to weaken Zarkon’s advance?"

Silence.

“Any of you?” He repeated, a hint of disappointment.

“Actually, sir.” The Blue Lord coughed, clearing his throat, drawing the room’s attention to him.

“I have a suggestion to do before we announce your return to the people.” He said directly to Shiro. The other Lord nodded, allowing him to continue.

"We should consider forging an alliance with Princess Allura. A marriage alliance. My Arusian informant has confirmed recently that the Allura living in a coast city in the South of Arus is, in fact, the real princess." Lance spoke, his voice steady. “She matches perfectly the portraits made of her.”

Then, all eyes kept locked on him as he sat before the large table. His sharp features giving back the look he received to the four of them.

"Even if it’s all true and we can trust your informant, Princess Allura is still... very far away, McClain. Also a complete stranger." Pidge Holt stated. But Lance hadn't yet finished his speech, so he continued as if nothing had been said.

"I have been considering the possibility for a while. In case we had to start a war, we need a flag to our cause. We'll eventually claim ourselves the only rebellious region against the Galra dynasty's cruel domain and are the only territory they haven’t touched yet. Why? They fear us. Our military potential, even with our finances relying on offshore commerce. We can defeat the Galra. But we can't claim the kingdom back without a rightful leader to put back in Zarkon's throne. Have you ever considered the chaos we'll leave the kingdom at once we defeat the most powerful house in the realm? Defeating Zarkon means leaving a spark to another war if we don’t think that through before." The Blue Paladin stated, eyeing Shiro.

"So are you suggesting we marry Shiro to Allura? To have the Altean back in the throne alongside us?” Pidge asked, eyeing Lance as if trying to read his mind.

"A dead house, you say." Hunk notified warily, now fully aware of what was being discussed at the table.

"She's still alive." Lance protested, eyeing Hunk sharply. "And is the rightful heiress to the throne."

"With no horses, no men, no land. It's a waste of marriage alliance." Keith snarled, incredulous to Lance's suggestion.

"And a lot of influence." Pidge said in his seat, thoughtful. He watched his fingers play with the Voltron’s house ring: a small lion engraved on silver. "Lord McClain has a point. Although Voltron has made some allies in the years before the growth of the Galra Empire started, we'd still be offering the Shirogane family to the throne which has no royal blood. If we could ally ourselves to a royal, it'd bring us more credibility. Especially when King Alfor was such a benevolent one to his people." His slim fingers tapped the thick dark wood as he spoke, his light brown eyes piercing the Red Paladin.

Keith's dark red cloak shifted as he stood up pushed his body forward. "A benevolent king to the 'people', exactly!" He snorted, shifting his eyes from the Green Paladin to the Blue Lord. "All houses lost part of their wealth during that time due to his obligatory yearly donations to the poorest and hard laws against slavery, which motivated a lot of houses to abandon his side when Zarkon rose against him."

"I suppose you're saying his acts were wrong, Lord Kogane?" Lord Shirogane’s voice sounded reproachful, staring at the younger man with severe eyes.

"I'm saying they weren't measured. His blind will for peace led to a war. We shouldn't take a big step without considering the negative side of his reign. Allura carries Altean blood, daughter of King Alfor, the Good. Or as most nobles knew him: King Alfor, the Fool." The Red Paladin added, glancing through everyone in the hall before falling back on his seat.

"We already are considering the negative side of it, Kogane. You made us this favor. Although you can't deny she has royal blood of a man who was loved by the people while their current governor reigns over bloodshed." Holt adjusted himself in his seat, leaning his hands on the table. He sat over some cushions to keep him at a comfortable height to glare at the others. It surprisingly didn’t make him any less respectful. "It's good we use it as part of our cause. Marrying the Black Lord to her can bring a powerful symbol to our future rebellion. He's the leader of us and she'll be the future Queen alongside him. If we are lucky enough, she'll accept coming back into this land of chaos."

"She's still without land, men and any kind of wealth." Hunk remarked Keith's statement. "A waste of proposal."

Lance rose from his seat, angered from so much hesitation. “We have land, men-“

A hard knock on the wood. All eyes turned to Black Paladin. His right hand was laid on the dark wood, his left one cupped his forehead. His scar was more visible in his grimaced face, showing how stressful the situation was to him. The Blue Lord quietly returned to his seat.

"The final vote is mine. After all, I'll be the one marrying her. I suppose we have a tie here, right? McClain and Holt are in favor of the wedding while Garrett and Kogane are not, is it all?" He kept his voice firm. At the end of the sentence, his eyes opened slit, staring at the other four paladins. All of them nodded.

"Great. Tomorrow, the Council meets again first thing in the morning for our final decision before you return to your lands. Voltron Council is over.” All of them stood up and laid their right hands against their chests.

\--//--

The Red Paladin made his way through the empty corridors of the Black Castle. He found it fun how the decoration was so appropriate to the castle’s name. Even the walls were built from hardly polished black rocks, and the carpets were black with white details like the flags and furniture. The torches burned on the castle’s walls but it still seemed dark.

While walking, he began wondering why the corridors were empty in the first place. He had spotted more guards in his earlier walk. Maybe because it was late evening after dinner. Perhaps he should sleep. He turned inside the chambers’ corridor, a long one with dark wooden doors on both of its’ sides.

A door opened and Lance walked out of it in simpler clothes, like a common peasant. He tried to adjust his boot on his foot while walking out of the room.

“Should I even ask?” Keith asked, examining him up and down with certain disappointment.

“There’s a party going on in the dining room, Keith.” Lance replied, finished with tying his boot’s knot. “To celebrate the Black Lord’s return to his castle after twelve months.” He explained as if it was an obvious reason to have a party.

“We agreed on keeping his return a secret and you’re joining his men on a party? What if a Galra spy notices?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, indignant.

“Well, are you going there to stop the party because some Galra spy might be inside the Black Castle’s walls? If they’re good spies, they’ve warned Zarkon Shiro’s back since he arrived at Emerald Woodland. They’ve seen him walking through the corridors of his own castle. So is there something we can do to stop the spy, Lord Kogane?” Lance walked closer to him, his eyes locked with the other man’s, his eyebrows lifted. His eyes looked daring. Lance knew exactly which buttons to push.

“Not throwing a party over it.” Keith dryly replied, resting his hand over the edge of his sword.

“Not being stupid over it. And that’s what you’re doing because it won’t matter in the end.” Lance shrugged then adjusted his hair. The man sighed, relieving the stress. “You should come. Get this bitterness out of your face you were probably born with. Have you ever even got drunk?”

“Fuck off, Lance.” Keith growled, passing by him. The Blue Lord laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from walking. Now, he looked at Keith with some concern in his eyes.

“Come on, you deserve some rest, Keith. You’ve been the most worried for him. Nothing bad will happen. If someone were to know, they already do. The party is inside the castle with only a few soldiers and servants. It’s more of a small feast.” Lance patted his shoulder briefly with a tender expression before he leaned his hands on his hips.

The Red Paladin rolled his eyes. Getting to drink a little after stressing so much over Shiro’s return didn’t seem so bad. “Wait here.” He walked inside his chamber and closed the door. The room was big and cozy with a comfortable master bed, a large dark chest in front of it. A large and puffy carpet of white fur laid covered the ground under the bed. He left his armor over the chest to dress himself with a loose white shirt and black leather pants. Inside his large boots, he hid a dagger among rags. Never go out defenseless, one of his unspoken rules. He left the room, tying his hair in a ponytail. “I could use some beer.”

“Yes, you could. Drink black beer in the Black Castle to celebrate the return of the Black Lord.” He spoke back with his playful annoying tone, smirking. They began walking back to the dining room.

Keith snorted and actually smirked briefly. “Our ancestors were too busy fighting to keep the lands to name them properly.”

“You mean, the ones who ruled the Black Plains. The Lighthouse is a creative name.” Lance pointed out, a hint of false offense to his voice.

“Yeah, right.” Keith dragged on his voice, not giving it much attention while observing the paintings of landscapes in the walls. Ignoring Lance was indeed a great way to annoy him.

“Yes, it is! Better than the Thorn Nest.” The man exhaled. Keith simply ignored, decided to pay more attention to the castle he hadn’t been to in a while.

It didn’t take ten seconds for Lance to break the silence. “I understand your worry though. It is strange.” He spoke in a low tone, eyes narrowed focusing on a random spot ahead of him. “They held two of our Lords prisoners for one year and never threatened to kill them. Suddenly, only Shiro scapes and doesn’t remember how he did it.”

“Are you suggesting we shouldn’t trust Shiro?” Keith looked at him through the corner of his eyes. They kept their voices’ tone close to whispers now.

“The Druids aren’t powerful enough to change him like that. Not even Haggar, it’s never been heard of before. I meant it’s odd. All of this. Him coming back, an unheard cousin of Matthew showing up... Don’t you think so?” His dark blue eyes shifted to meet Keith’s gaze and hold it for a while.

Keith stared at him as if he could read his mind. Lance was truly clueless to some things, wasn’t he? A growing noise suddenly dragged him back to reality. You could hear string instruments playing fast songs, loud laughs and singing.

“Is this your small feast?” The black haired man asked in a mix of surprise and anger. His only reply from the Blue Paladin was a shrug and a smirk before he hushed into the feast ahead of him.

Keith hesitated into following him for an instant. But it wasn’t long before he gave up.

Honestly, he didn’t remember much of that night but a blur of Lance dancing over a table and singing.

The next morning, Keith woke up with a loud pounding on the back of his head. He pushed away the thick fur sheets and sat on the bed. He stared down at his feet for a few seconds, lost in his thoughts about today’s meeting and Shiro’s eventual decision on the proposal. His muscles tensed. Honestly, he deeply feared making alliances with strangers in such a troubled time.

Treason could come from anyone.

Pushing such thoughts away, he started dressing himself. A full-length sleeves leather top with a turtleneck, which was decorated with a small sliver lion in its front, matched his leather black pants and boots with silvery buckles.

Finally, he covered most of his body with the reddish fur cloak. He walked to the small mirror on top of a bureau and examined himself with his grayish eyes. His fingers ran through his medium sized hair, briefly brushing it.

Keith Kogane, now recognizable as the Red Lord, walked out of his chamber on his way to the dining room. He rushed his heavy steps, anxiety clutching his throat.

He spread the doors open and walked to the long table to find Shiro sitting alone in his usual spot while reading a large map of the known world. The Red Lord walked to stand by his side.

“Good morning, my Lord.” He greeted politely, eyeing the map. The Common Land always reminded Keith slightly of a roughly shaped horizontal “S” with shorter edges. On Northwest, were the Galra’s original lands on the high North of the continent. The gelid people, high dry trees, where the winter lasted most of the year. No wonder they took over more than half of the continent, they couldn’t survive only on their local crops.

Following the shape of the continent Southeast through the Dark Woods, Keith’s eyes spotted the West of the Voltron Lands: the Emerald Woodland. It was a large area that covered part of the Dark Woods and the entire Juniper Grooves, the forest with the best wood in all the kingdom. Among the trees of the grooves, most children were taught to hunt and to cross an arrow straight through rabbit’s eyes. The best archers and wood came from those lands.

Heading East, the land in a roundy shape stood in the middle of Voltron: The Black Plains. There, they sowed most of the finest crops in all the continent, though it was mostly known for being the political center of Voltron. On the Southest, stood a slightly larger area: The Crimson Lands. The mines of iron and other common metals made ground for the powerful market of weapons and armors it was.

The lands were a grand military authority and were the only place in the Voltron lands that accepted all adult people in their army: women, men, and even bastards of the land, known as Ashes. They could be a part of the army, as long as they proved themselves worthy. Keith felt a warm feeling rush through his chest while recalling his childhood days, when he admired from afar those brave warriors swinging their swords in the name of his family. His thoughts drifted back to the map.

On the North, following the shore of the “U” shaped gulf, a long peninsula ripped its way into the ocean, dividing the water in two: the Blue Bays, north of the Voltron Lands. The Blue Lord’s territory resembled a trident, the long sharp middle blade and the smaller other two that embraced the whole bays. It was essential for diplomacy and commerce, since most of the significant ports were on that territory’s shore. Lance McClain might seem like the goofiest man on Earth to strangers, but ruling those lands was no duty for a fool.

Finally, by the West was the Golden Valley, a huge desert land. It was named after the abundant mines of gold that filled the Yellow Mountains, the frontier of the Voltron lands. Not only gold was extracted there, but most kinds of metals. The Crimson Lands might hold the biggest arsenal, but only because of the Golden Valley’s supply.

After a brief analysis on the map, Keith eventually noticed Shiro’s expectant eyes at him and he realized the Black Lord must have asked him a question.

“Forgive me, my Lord, I wasn’t paying attention.” Keith shook his head briefly, snapping himself out of his thoughts while he straightened his posture.

“I told you to quit your formalities, Keith. I’ve known you since you were born. There’s no need for this when we’re alone.” Shiro spoke, turning his head to face the other man. “Call me Shiro, I’m your uncle.”

Keith let out a long breath while heading to his usual seat at the table. “McClain advises I should learn manners since we might have to negotiate alliances and the Lords might feel insulted if I call them anything else other than their titles.” He fell onto his seat, spreading his legs under the table.

“I’m not one of those Lords. And since when do you listen to Lance? Have I been out for this long?” Shiro laid his hands on the table, smiling small at the other.

He tugged his lips upward in a grin, eyes aiming for the table. “All is fair in war.” He felt a discreet clench on his chest, remembering the unspoken rest of that phrase.

“We’re not in war yet, Keith.” Shiro advised with the usual fatherly tone in his voice.

“We’ll be in one soon, we should be alert.” He replied sharply.

Their attention drifted to the Blue Lord who theatrically spread the doors and walked inside, the same permanent smirk on the corner of his lips. He wore his silvery armor this morning with blue clothing under the metal parts. It was a very well done suit, a lion’s head carved in the middle of his chest piece and tiny drawings of waves on the edges of it.

“Good morning, my dear comrades.” He greeted them with a smile and sat on his chair.

Keith secretly wondered how come Lance didn’t act like his head was being ripped apart by such a bad hangover like himself. Lance crossed his arms on the table, leaning against it.

“Morning.” Keith forced himself to reply.

“Good morning, McClain. As soon as the others arrive, we’ll discuss what to do.” Shiro explained.

“I just can’t see why we had to do this before breakfast. Have you made a decision on the Altean Princess, Shiro?” Lance lazily leaned his face on his hand, eyeing Shiro from the corner of his eyes.

The man simply nodded. It didn’t take long before both the Green and Yellow Lord entered the room. Soon, all the informality of the meeting was lost. The imminence of war filled the room as they swore their vows before the meeting started.

“My Lords.” The Black Lord stood up as his eyes ran across the men’s faces. “Good morning. I’ve given this a lot of thought since yesterday. And made up my mind.” His expression hardened and he rose his voice.

“Our fathers and mothers lived in the time when King Alfor ruled. Times of peace and where people were happy. Until the Galra Rebellion. And now, the Galra rule. Our lands; the Golden Valley, the Blue Bays, the Crimson Lands, the Emerald Woodland and the Black Plains; serve no other than the people and peace. We’re here to protect the kingdom, not to rule it. It’s not my duty to be king. But it is Princess Allura’s to be queen.”

“She’s the rightful heiress to the throne. She shall rule and we shall lead her there. Whether or not she accepts my proposal.”


	2. When The War Comes Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge Holt returns to his land. Lance and Keith get prepared to start their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hey guys! Sorry for the delay, college has been draining me. Anyway, here it is! Things are getting started now, hehe. The Black Keep looks is heavily inspired by the Riverrun castle from Game of Thrones HBO Series, for your imagination. Hope you enjoy!  
> Once again, whenever there are explicit trigger warning scenes, such as explicit violence, sexual scenes, I'll say it in the chapter notes.

The dark walls rose high. They hid stories among their bricks, the swords’ marks against the rocks. The Black Keep held its reputation for being the strongest of forts in the Common Land. The walls surrounding it were broad enough to fit two men with spread arms, large towers ascended in strategic spots of its length. Within them, the Black Castle’s silhouette rose above the walls’ height; being up there gave a marvelous view of summer woods in the distant horizon and villages approaching the fortress.

Lance McClain followed the shape of the outside wall on his horse, silently saying goodbye to the place where he had spent months of his childhood studying to be a Lord, a warrior and a worthy heir to the Blue Bays. He’d soon have to leave and not come back in a long while.

 _“Convincing Allura to embrace this cause might not be an easy task.”_ Shiro’s voice echoed in his head. Of all five Paladins, Lance had been chosen to lead this diplomatic mission. He was judged the most suitable for the job, after all, the only way to reach Arus would be through the sea. He was also the most charismatic of the five, although the Council didn’t use those exact words. He couldn’t help but feel his chest warm with pride. Since back in his land, he’d spent a big part of his childhood watching his father negotiate deals of truce with all sorts of people. The Strings’ Harbor was once very open before the Rebellion, and being the eldest son and first in the line of succession gave him certain unavoidable responsibilities. How to speak in public and how to bargain with them had become essential. Still, persuade a rich princess to leave her nest of security in a different continent to be the flag of a war against a rising Empire didn’t seem easy at all.

After his short goodbye morning ride, he stopped his horse in front of the gates of the Black Keep. A small group of the Blue Bays’ soldiers waited for him further ahead, their blue flags with white lions floating high with the wind. Beside his own men, another formation of knights was getting ready for a long trip. Unlike Lance’s own soldiers with silvery armors, The Green Lord’s ones wore a dark shade of metal and their shields were considerably large made of thick wood. Lance guided his horse past his travel group to reach the Emerald Woodlands’ knights and stop near their Lord who absently stared into the crowd of men with a frown. His armor wasn’t much different from the ones of his soldiers, but it had some silver details that drew leaves and trunks on his chest piece.

“Good morning, Holt.” The Blue Lord greeted him with a nod. He watched the Green Lord slowly turn his face to him, his grimace fading into a curious expression. 

“Morning, McClain.” He narrowed his tawny colored eyes at the sun’s bright light.

“Where are the others?” Lance asked loosely, pulling his horse’s reins to the right slightly so he could take a look at the Black Keep’s wooden bridge over its narrow moat.

“Lord Shirogane and Lord Garrett will be here to bid us farewell soon.”

“I see.” Lance replied thoughtfully, his eyes following the people who entered and left the castle carrying large baskets of food and other supplies. He made a small pause before speaking again. “I still don’t think it’s necessary for Hunk to stick around longer to give Shiro a report. Hunk has his own land to watch after and they can write each other.”

“The Grotto couldn’t be invaded even if it was being guarded by shadows. Getting there already is a maze.” Pidge rode slowly to stand at the edge of the watercourse, and Lance followed behind.

A fond smile crossed Lance’s lips. Once again, he took some time watching the water before speaking again. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever been to the Grotto, Holt, but the trail that leads to there is full of bifurcations.” He watched as the tiny Lord shook his head.

“Most of the paths lead to gold mines, which are some old and abandoned. So the people there believe if you get lost in the way to the Grotto means no native has invited you there and for that, you aren’t welcomed. Some of the roads to mines can be very long and lead to dead ends, so some abandoned carriages are there from people who reached the ends and didn’t have enough supplies to return.” Lance took a deep breath and shut his eyes. His eyes slit open again and laid upon the fortress.

"As kids, I once dared Hunk to walk on these dead ends with me. Got ourselves lost in despair of dying and never finding out what kissing a girl felt like, but it was mostly fun walking there. Our screaming allowed us to be found.” He snorted a laugh.

Pidge glanced at Lance’s face with the corner of his eyes. “Pretty stupid, even for a kid. But as I said, a maze. Garrett will be alright, McClain, he’ll be in the Black Keep. You should worry about yourself and Kogane, you’re the ones sailing to Arus.”

“You sound too smart for a fourteen years old boy who has no small signal of a beard. How come a boy of fourteen don’t have any hair on his face?” Lance quirked an eyebrow, twitching a corner of his lip upward.

For once, Pidge Holt smirked back, it was a historical moment. “How come a man of twenty can’t wield a sword?”

“Oh, you imp...” Lance muttered, pretending to offended. The Green Lord snorted a laugh, briefly shaking his shoulders.

“Actually, I do think you fight well with a sword, McClain. All four of you do. Although I think you’re better with the spear.” His mischievous smirk hadn’t left, but his eyes gave him an innocent look.

Lance’s smile faded slightly at that statement. His uneasiness didn’t seem to last longer than a second, he hoped. “You’ll learn someday, Holt. I’ve heard men in your land train with the spears from a young age to be hunters though.”

“I was a small child, they said I couldn’t hold a spear so I was given the bow and arrow.” He replied quickly, his smirk fading into a serious expression. His eyes now were upon some point at the Black Keep’s bridge. “They are here.”

Lance eyed the three horses rush to cross the bridge and stop a few meters away from them in a clear place without subordinates of any of the lords. Lance and Pidge rode to the edge of the bridge to join them. Lord Shirogane and Lord Garrett wore their usual noble clothes, but Keith wore a common armor of the Blue Soldiers. The five reunited in a small circle on their horses.

“It would be so easy killing us right now.” Lance commented. He smiled, holding his white mare’s reins to calm her down.

“True. Open field, all together like sitting ducks...” Hunk agreed with a shrug, an amused smile on his lips.

“But it won’t happen.” Shiro cut their small playful talk with a stern voice tone. “All four of you have important tasks to be done. Holt, if you think any additional defensive measures are necessary, just send me a letter. Hunk and I are yet to discuss his actions. Keith, Lance. You know what to do. Secrecy.”

“Six weeks, Shiro. The South of Arus is far away. Mother will watch over the Lighthouse.” Lance confirmed with a nod. The instructions of the mission piled up in his head.

“I still think leaving the Crimson Lands in the hands of an unfit to rule isn’t wise in times like these.” Pidge advised, holding a hard gaze on Keith. Lance recalled their previous debate on the council, of how they could manage hiding a known Lord location. Keith had suggested that since the news of Shiro’s return hadn’t been shared with the common folk, he could easily pretend to be solving the Black Plains’ issues while he followed Lance on the mission. Shiro himself would control his lands from behind the papers under the name of the Red Lord.

“I trust my sister.” Keith gave Holt a cold stare, gripping on the reins with a little strength.

“It’s a risky move to leave for six weeks, Kogane. Stupid even.” Pidge Holt snorted, turning his gaze away. The Lords had argued over the Red Lord’s decision to accompany Lance on his trip. It lasted for the rest of the council the day before, however they came to a supposed consent when Black Lord ended up allowing it. Shirogane’s vote was final, however not everyone had fully accepted it.

“We came to an agreement. It’s over.” Shiro declared, clearly not in the mood to handle complaints anymore. “I trust all of you.”

After the formalities, the men stood down from their horses to say goodbye to each other. Lance gave Hunk a tight hug, not minding the metal armors between them. They knew they wouldn’t very probably see each other in the next few months, or possibly, even a longer period of time, Lance feared. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t tighten his grip around Hunk when the thought crossed his mind.

“Take care, big man.” He smiled tenderly, patting the taller man’s shoulder when they backed away. Hunk gave him a strong yet friendly slap on the shoulder.

“You too, lanky one.” Hunk showed him a warm smile, before stepping away.

Shiro came his way toward Lance when Hunk walked away to say goodbye to the others. After a fairly long hug, Shiro laid his hand on Lance’s shoulder. He advised him with his usual fatherly tone with reminds of the mission’s secrecy. Lance could only reply his worries with a small smile.

“I won’t disappoint you, Shiro. Worry on your own issues.”

Shiro smiled small. With a pat on his shoulder, he left to talk to whoever he hadn’t spoken to yet. Lance hadn't’ been paying much attention. Lance slowly walked to Pidge, who still held reins of his horse afraid it’d run away. He stood in front of him. He hadn’t known him for long but the boy proved himself much more useful and clever than Lance expected him to be. Or anyone expected at all. He was only a  poor fourteen years old boy, fated with something much bigger than himself.

“Be careful, McClain. I’m still against this but if you’re doing it, do it right.” His sharp eyes stared up at Lance. The man nodded, patting the boy’s shoulder.

“You too, shorty. I started ruling the Blue Bays around your age. And you’re smarter than I was at the time, so you’ll probably handle it.”

“Only that time?” A devilish smirk crossed his lips.

“I’ll never compliment you again.” That earned a short laugh from Pidge and it made Lance smile.

“Hey. Really, take care.” Lance spoke again, stepping away to climb back onto his horse.

“You too.”

After the farewells, the Lords returned to their respective travelling groups. The Green Lord parted first, leading a crowd of men carrying their emerald standards. The loud sound of horses’ hoofs faded in the West. Lance enjoyed that short moment to observe the birds flying over the Black Castle’s towers, its dark grand walls, the large river that flowed to fill the running moat around the fort’s edges and streamed West. His eyes landed on Lord Shirogane and Lord Garrett who returned his gaze. Lance couldn’t see from such a distance, but he knew they hid concern under their steady faces. He spread a smile large enough for them to see.

“Blue Knights, ahead!” He shouted, tapping his horse with his foot and sprinted North, his men behind him.

The further they went on the road, the more engulfed in the woods they got. The temperate forest in the summer displayed bright greenish leaves and had a light fresh air. Lance drew a deep breath of the morning breeze while the horse’s muscles shifted  quietly underneath him. His thoughts ran through all his lifetime while he rode in the lead of the group.

Most of his own knights knew the Red Lord already, so it was mostly a secret they had to put for show while only around them. The Blue Lord had only informed them they’d be escorting the Red Lord for a mission, in utter secrecy and the strict instructions to not tell anyone else about it. They’d treat him like any other Blue Knight and things would be fine. He trusted his knights enough to keep Keith’s identity a secret, but the mission’s details was only known to the five Lords of the council. However, for now it was a calm trip back home, he couldn’t why he couldn’t get some fun out of it.

“Sir Arthur, lead the way while I’m absent. I’ll talk to our new fellow knight.” He spoke to the man on his right, who obeyed him with a nod.

Lance turned around the large group of men and joined the middle section of the traveling line. He stood beside of Keith, tilting his head to face him with with a sly smirk.

"What do I owe the honor of Lord McClain talking to me about?” Keith spoke, unfazed, eyes focused ahead of him. Their unity was fairly small, so he figured Keith and anyone could hear any conversation that was held there.

“You should talk more like that.” Lance spread a smug grin through his face before covering it with a restrained smirk.

“Indeed, my Lord. But all things have their prices.” Keith slid his sharp greyish eyes at Lance, a silent warning.

“Do they? I remember telling you to ride in the back, guarding our supplies.” Lance grinned once again, before Keith gave him one last stare and retreated to the back with the wagons.

By the sundown, they had stopped by the closest inn, which gladly received the Blue Lord for free, although Lance insisted on paying for their stay. His men had been give cabins each one. The inn was big, considerably comfortable for a group of travellers, with warm food, though everyone had been too tired to care. As soon as they settled in the place and filled their stomachs, most of the men went to their chambers, some with women, some just to sleep. Lance and Keith kept their seats by the loneliest table, far from the gathering of drunk men.

“We need to find you a fake name, my friend.” Lance suggested, bringing the cup of wine to his lips. “What shall it be? Kevin?”

“My ass, Lance. There’re plenty of Keiths in the world. I won’t be called Kevin just because you want a revenge on the hundreds of times you lost to me in sword practicing when we were teenagers.” The very brute man named Keith ripped half of the bread with his teeth, followed by a chicken’s thigh. Lance’s eyes widened slightly at the action, furrowing his eyebrows. Keith must have noticed, because he replied Lance’s horrified look with a frown.

“What are you looking at?” He groaned, chewing his chicken.

“I thought you were intelligent enough to use a fork and a knife, but you always impress me.” Lance spoke with remarkable sarcasm.

Keith swallowed, eyes stuck on Lance. “I’m supposed to blend in. Your soldiers probably don’t use a fork and a knife daily. Blending in is the biggest reason I didn’t spit my chicken on you, because I have to pretend I’m under your position. Also, it’s a waste of chicken.” He drank some of his beer.

“Rude.” Lance rolled his eyes, leaving his cup on the table. He only saw a slight smirk grow on Keith’s lips, his eyes piercing through his own. Lance suddenly looked away, straightening himself in his seat. “We should be more careful.” He spoke in a low voice.

“Weren’t you the one saying that if there’s probably someone who already knows, there’s nothing we can do?” Keith asked in the same tone, pushing his empty plate away.

“It’s different. A different thing. A different place. We were at the Black Keep, now we’re at nowhere between there and the Lighthouse.” He replied, crossing his arms, eyes on the people drinking on the other edge of the room.

“Lance.” The man dragged his blue eyes to face the deep greyish ones.“Nobody is looking. And we’re just talking. I’m sure if there were any rumours about it, we’d have known.” Keith relaxed against his bench and drank a bit of his beer. “Shiro would have lectured me about it.” He smirked, restraining a grin.

Lance relaxed his frown and chuckled quietly, throwing his head back. “The worst thing about it is that it sounds true.” He shook his head staring at the ceiling, trying to stop his giggles.

“It _would_ be true. If he knew, but he doesn’t.” Keith kept a small smile on his lips, glancing at Lance while he regained his breath. There was a pause in their conversation, the chorus of men singing across the room and Lance’s low and cal, intakes of breath were the only sounds to be heard between them. Lance slowly collected himself, his persistent smile gradually fading as he leaned against the table.

“It’s not Takashi I’m worried about. He just came back from a year of imprisonment. He couldn’t have figured it out so soon.” He crossed his arms on the wood, earning Keith’s attention. “It’s Holt. He’s clever. And I get the feeling he knows.”

Keith’s eyes rose from his cup of beer and locked themselves with Lance’s. “He might know. But he’s no threat.” His expression was unreadable.

“How can you tell, Mr.Know-It-All?” Lance quirked his eyebrow. 

Keith copied Lance’s position, laying his elbows on the table and interlocking his own fingers. He stared directly at Lance as if hopeful Lance could read his thoughts. “Have you ever heard the saying that those who distrust others too much have often reasons to be distrusted themselves?”

“No...? Are you implying he is up to something?” Lance leaned even more against the table, lowering his voice’s tone.

Keith shook his head. “No, not up to something. I’m saying _he_ might have something to _hide_ as well.” He straightened in his seat and his eyes briefly drifted to some point below Lance’s chest.

Lance’s expression was of utter confusion. “What...?” He looked down, eyes unconsciously searching for some hint of what Keith meant.

Keith rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. “You’re a lost case, McClain. Forget it. We’re okay, that’s what’s important. Anyway, how many days riding to the Tailor?” He swallowed a full gulp of his beer.

“One day to the West Bay. And you’ll tell me about Holt.” He sipped some of his wine, eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly slightly offended by Keith’s reply. Whatever he meant, it sure wasn’t that easy to figure out.

“I asked until the _Tailor_ . You know, the Strings’ Harbor? Your _home_?” Keith looked at him in disbelief.

“I think you’re the one not listening to your own question.” Lance replied annoyed, rolling his eyes before landing them back on Keith. His lips twitched upwards. “You said _riding_. We don’t ride in the Blue Bays, Keith. We sail.”

Keith’s forehead wrinkled in slight despair. “Oh no.”

\--//--

 

The birds sang gleefully in the early afternoon. The bright rays of sunlight entered the small chamber through narrow windows and illuminated it fairly well. Katherine wondered how long had it been since she’d had a bath so peacefully and how long it’d be since she could have another. It had been a few days since she’d arrived at home, but it still seemed hard to settle in there among all the stressful situations she’d dealt. The girl stared absently through the windows, watching the small creatures that landed on the branches of tall trees. She was lost in her thoughts until a searing sharp pain struck her on the shoulder.

“Ouch!” The girl shrieked. She grabbed her shoulder and sunk in the bathtub, covering her burn fully for a few seconds before emerging. Her eyes widened, staring at the woman beside her clearly offended. “Mother!”

“What? You were spacing out.” The woman shrugged. Lady Colleen Holt sunk a short piece of cloth in a bowl of cold water. Her long light brunette hair was tied in fancy braids that gathered in a flawless bun. Her golden detailed green gown’s sleeves had been pulled to her elbows and a white fabric apron covered most of her dress. She leaned against the wooden bathtub and clenched the fabric in her hands, dripping the water on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Do you have to pour boiling water on me for that?” The girl wailed, stretching her neck to look at the burn.

“It wasn’t boiling, quit your drama. You’ve just been in there for so long the water has gotten cold.” Colleen dipped the cloth in water once again just to pour more over her daughter’s shoulder. She momentarily seemed to examine the reddish skin more attentively as if to make sure it wasn’t wounded. “Also, even if it hurt, you need to learn how to deal with pain. You’re a Lord now.” She said quietly, Katherine almost couldn’t hear it.

Katie snorted, glancing at the windows to avoid her mother’s gaze. “Not for long. It’s not such a secret anymore. Blind men can tell.” She grumbled, hugging her own arm.

“Would you rather deliver the legacy your father’s dynasty has built for centuries in a silver plate to whoever felt like ruling the Emerald Woodlands? Marry me or you to a random forty years old man and let him rule?” Her voice was calm while she grabbed a sponge to rub her daughter’s thin arms. She looked like she didn’t mean to give her daughter a lecture, like Katie didn’t need anymore of it. It was more of a reminder.

“No, mother, ew.” Katie shook her head softly, watching the sponge scrub her arm. “You know I’d rather die than deliver the legacy of the Holt to some fucker.” She immediately gained a more serious tone. Her mother pinched her arm, earning a death stare from her.

“Language, Katie.” She warned.

“I’m just saying we should’ve considered better.” Katie continued, ignoring the itchy pain in her arm and her mother’s scold. “If you had taken hold of the Treehouse forcefully regardless of being a woman as you suggested a year ago, we might have had some resistance in the beginning but we wouldn’t be dealing with this now on the verge of a war.” She sighed, frowning her forehead in concern.

The woman leaned closer and laid a hand on her daughter’s wet hair, her voice stern. “Katherine. That’s why this is definitely not the time to dwell on past decisions.” Colleen straightened herself, dipping the sponge in the water bowl again. “Besides, we didn’t have much time back then. We had to come up with something quickly.”

“We don’t have much time _now_...” She mumbled, thoughtful. Her hazel eyes ran through the steady water. Her temporary peace had faded into distress. She clicked her tongue, taking a last glimpse of the sunny landscape outside.

“I’m done with my bath.” She stood up abruptly, splashing some water at her mother.

“I haven’t finished yet, Katherine.” Her mother stated as she watched her step out of the tub.

“I don’t care. I’ve been here for long enough. I have other things to do.” She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Can you dry me, mom? Please.” She turned to her with a restless look. Her mother stared at her in concern for a short period of time before sighing and walking toward her.

“You’ll smell.” Lady Holt warned but there wasn’t a real bitterness in her voice. She frowned slightly as she grabbed the fluffy towel in her hands and rubbing against her child’s hair. Her expression softened as she rubbed the towel on her face mildly. She took her time in it and gave her a fond look, concern hidden behind her eyes. A heavy breath left her lips.

“Sometimes I forget you’re a leader now, Katie.” Colleen spoke tenderly and low, caressing Katherine’s cheek. “You’re a good one, clever one. But you don’t have to deal with the whole land on your own. You have me. And Rover. We’re in this together.” With that, she laid a gentle kiss on her child’s forehead. Katherine slightly nodded, muttering a soft ‘thank you’.

Katherine was dried and dressed by her mother slowly, as if that moment could fade away at any instant. When she was younger, her mother would forcefully shove her into tight uncomfortable dresses, and she’d cry against it but accept it in the end. Eventually she stopped crying, but she only let her mother dress her. It became an habit. One of the few she still did. She could pretend she was still a tiny child and her and her mother were still part of a happy family.

Lady Colleen did not complain about it. While she was being dressed up, Katherine watched herself on the mirror slowly turning into the man everyone knew as the Green Lord: Pidge Holt. The heavy dark armor she’d grown muscles to carry around, the green cloak covering her small silhouette. She was partially convincing as a boy, she thought. Her hair bangs grew to cover the thin features of her face and the armor was large enough to cover any feminine shape her body had been taking over the past months.

Regardless, the disguise wouldn’t last much longer due to her unavoidable puberty and rising rumours about her identity. Katherine Holt wasn’t such an unknown face.  Besides most of the castle’s workers that had sworn to keep her secret, some Lords and nobles often came to visit the lands. Sometimes she was unpleasantly introduced to them as Samuel Holt’s rebellious daughter. Luckily for her, most of those lords lived far away and wouldn’t risk leaving their nests of safety in the middle of such political tensions. The rest of them were the former Lords of Voltron and some members of their families. Sadly but convenient for her lies, the former lords were deceased with the exception of her father (she hoped). And their whole families never visited each other very much anyway.

However, how the other current Lords of Voltron never recognized her was still beyond her knowledge. Perhaps, they wouldn’t recall the face of Matthew Holt’s little sister, after all, he was their promised comrade and future Green Lord. Katherine only recalled being dragged outside her room and library for the feasts her family held, and even there, she remained silent and left as soon as her mother allowed her to. She hated crowds. Now she ruled an entire province of Voltron, a role she was never given any education or training to play.

However, being in power gave her the highest chance to take back her father and brother, and she and her mother could never give away her family’s home only for being a woman. She had taken power under the name of Pidge Gunderson, the son of Lord Samuel Holt’s younger brother, the only one rightful to rule the lands. Katherine and Matthew Holt had once had an actual cousin, bastard son of their uncle and a peasant girl, taking after his mother’s name. The bastard was left with his mother with no assistance from his father. None was heard of him ever since. He was very likely dead, as his own father, who fell in battle.

But Lady Colleen had found Pidge Gunderson in her daughter and named her Pidge Holt as the Lord they needed her to be. And they’d been holding the strings of her fake identity since then.

“Let’s start with Small Council, mother.” Holt commanded, adjusting her hair to cover most of her face edges. Lady Colleen took a moment to respond. The woman nodded before untying her apron and fixing her dress. With that, she left Katherine alone.

The girl eyed at her reflection for a while longer. Maybe if she stared long enough into her own eyes, she’d know what to do. She filled her lungs before walking out of the bathroom.

She paced through the narrow corridors of the Treehouse. The castle itself was a labyrinth made of rock and wood, numerous slender towers rising high where sentinels stood day and night. As she approached the High Room, the corridor’s decorations went from simple paintings and statues to  historic large wooden shields with arrows crossed perpendicular in front of them. Long bows stood below the shields, names of past lords of the Emerald Woodlands written in silver letters.

The girl briefly read each of the names while she walked toward the High Room where countless times her father hosted feasts, and now she held meetings with her counselors over important issues. She spread the doors, the couple of distressed faces laying their eyes on her as she walked in.

The room was fairly long, a long faded green carpet displayed on the middle of the room leading to a table that stood in a ground steps higher than the rest of the place. “Pidge” reached the dark wooden table and sat by its edge in silence. She rose her gaze at the two people by the table.

“Reports?” She asked, lifting her eyebrows in a request for the counselors to speak.

“My Lord... A small package has arrived in a crow. It has the Empire’s seal.” Rover spoke urgently. Maester Rover was a short senile man, shrunk shoulders, the knuckles on his fingers freckled with old sun marks. The bright blue eyes that were almost white did not hide his Galran ancestry. The Maester had been offered as a gift for the Holt family even before Samuel Holt’s birth. Even after the whole conflict with the Galra started, the man proved himself loyal to the Holts and had kept his oath ever since.

Katie had trusted him with her most dangerous of secrets since the beginning of theri faking. However, they used male pronouns in case someone overheard the conversation. “Maester Rover, we agreed on not referring to the Galran cruelty as an Empire. It gives them legitimacy.” Lady Colleen notified with a calm voice.

“Hand it to me.” Ignoring her mother, Katherine felt the panic clutch her throat.Yet she managed to speak in a half demanding tone.

Soon, a very tiny light black wooden box was placed in front of the current Lord Holt. With tense hands, she slowly unlocked it. Her big eyes widened at the box’s content: a small silver pin and a tightly wrapped letter with the Galra seal.

The small pin consisted of two thin crossed silver arrows which traditionally belonged to the heir of the Emerald Woodlands. It paired with the lion pin Pidge wore her on clothes’ collar.

“It’s Matthew’s.” She muttered, staring in shock at the open box.

Colleen rushed from her seat to grab the box and inspect its content. As if shot by an arrow, she grimaced in utter pain, letting out a dying breath. “Oh, my son...” She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands and fell back on her chair.

“What does the letter say, My Lord?” Rover’s quiet voice filled the room after a short moment of silence.

Katherine’s brown eyes shifted to the black ink marking the paper, her fingers gripping the paper tight. She drew a long shaken breath, before reading the single three words out loud.

“To Katherine Holt.”

“They know.” Katherine breathed out, trying not to sink in her rising panic. _Of course they know_. She gave her mother the letter in trembling hands. As it was silently read by all in the room, she straightened in her seat, skin paler than ever.

Her widened eyes laid blank upon the several papers displayed on the table. The documents of finances; the letters from men within her own province; the maps of her own province, of the continent, the other lords’ territory...The Olkari. She remained still for a while longer, however now the engines in her mind ran at the speed of horses. After long seconds of silence, Katherine Holt slowly rose her head to face her mother and counselor.

“I must speak to the Black Lord. This can’t be hidden for much longer. This letter is a clear threat. To my father, brother. And to me. They have them.” She stated with a hard voice. “I want my personal guard and supplies prepared for the trip tomorrow morning.” A short pause, filled with silence. “No, tonight. Before dawn.”

“Katherine, what do you-“ Colleen began her plead.

“Our house is hanging by a thread. It’s no longer a local issue, they have our leader, our heir and a secret about our current ruler. It’s not a secret anymore. It may never have been one.” She stood up from her seat, her features scowled in harshness. “There’s no longer a diplomatic approach to this.”

\--//--

Lance dragged in a deep long breath, the scent of salt filling his lungs. With his eyes shut, he could feel the waves move under the ship’s shell, the sound of them breaking against the wood, the strong wind that dragged his strands of hair toward the beach. As he slowly opened his eyes, he let out his breath watching the cold smoke leaving his lips. _He was home_. He could feel it in his dry skin, in his purple lips.

After long days of sailing, they had finally arrived at the said Strings Harbor. The grand standard of the Blue Bays swayed high from the ship, its color matching the bright sky. As the vessel approached the shore, the horizon revealed the familiar port Lance had grown up watching.

The Strings Harbor had earned its name over the resemblance it held to a harp when seen from high ground. The piers lengthened inside the waters, parallel lines cutting into the blue. They were large wood platforms and had countless ships docked by them, standards of all colors and designs hoisted high. On the horizon, the wharf had lots of commercial establishments from inns to markets and small banks for coin trading. The buildings slowly turned from wooden small places to larger rock constructions further on the continent.

The sailing was over.

The crew rushed to anchor the ship by the closest spot to the shore. Lance could spot Keith from the corner of his eyes among the men that anchored the ship. The southern man had its skin paler than ever, his lips very purple and even from a distance, Lance could tell he was shaking. He couldn’t blame him. Here, even summer could be cold. It had probably snowed a little in the past day. On other hand, in the Crimson Lands, there was never the tiniest bit of frost. If anything, it was far too warm there for most of the year.

Lance watched the people that walked on the pier. The merchants, the peasants. He eventually spotted a small group of the lord’s guard marching in his direction.He expected they were told to escort him to the castle. Or so he thought. Amidst the knights, he saw her. Her dark hair tied in a high bun and falling braids, her long dark blue gown printed with delicate white stars and night glows, mostly covered by a thick white fur cloak. She paced through them with utter grace.

The Blue Lord’s face was lit with a huge smile. He got down from the ship as soon as he could and rushed to meet his mother, Lady Eelena McClain. The group of knights opened his way so that the Lord could encounter his mother. And then he did.

The feeling of home filled his bones, his heart. The slightly salty fragrance of her hair and clothes, the comfort that came from squishing her chubby arms with his armor. Her slightly playful yet annoyed request for him to back away before he broke her ribs made his day, week and month much better.

Lance let her go and held her shoulders, smiling wide as he could at her.

“Hey, mom. I’m home.” He spoke, grinning down at his mother, who was about twenty centimeters shorter.

“I can see that.” A gentle smile crossed her lips making beautiful natural wrinkles on her face. She was so beautiful. But her eyes held a sad look, as her hand rose to caress her son’s cheek. “But you won’t be for much longer.” She sighed at the surprise printed on Lance’s face.

“Lord Kogane has sent me a letter from the Black Keep, he’s said you must hurry to your duty in Arus. He says he’s in a tough situation and that you’d know it. Also, he advised you must leave immediately. He’s even asked me to prepare a ship for you and your crew, so you could leave for there as soon as possible.” She stretched her hand for a handmaid that  had made her company alongside her guards. The younger woman handled her an open letter, and Eelena passed it to his son. He expected it to have the Black seal, but instead, he saw red wax.

Lance eagerly grabbed the letter, quickly reading the writing that stated everything his mother had claimed. Except, Shiro’s clear elegant handwriting had written a false signature very different from Keith’s messy one. The man lifted his blue eyes to the woman to meet hers. Her eyes were of a blue darker than Lance's own and now, they gazed sternly at him. He knew she wanted to know from him what was going on, why it was such an emergency. But he couldn’t tell her, not here, not now. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes locked with hers for brief seconds. And in those seconds, he wondered: what was it so Shiro couldn’t tell him about through a letter from himself? That he couldn’t spare one night for Lance and his crew to rest? He didn’t know. But Shiro wasn’t to make a big deal out of nothing. He’d never send such a desperate letter, on the Red Lord’s name, if there wasn’t a real need. Or perhaps… That was the message itself. They were desperate. On a race against time. They could not waste it.

Once he came back to reality, Lance noticed. His mother wasn’t looking at him anymore, but somewhere behind his shoulder. The Lord followed her gaze and met Keith’s, who stood behind the rest of Lance’s usual personal guard. Keith, the Red Lord that now wore a silver armor with the Blue Bays’ standart while he stared absent minded at the sea. Keith, the man who was once the heir to the Crimson Lands and had visited the McClain family countless times and was like a third son to Lady Eelena. Lance swallowed his fear to face his mother’s sharp eyes again.

“That one is new.” She simply commented, interlocking her fingers in front on her hips as the proper lady she was. A small smirk was in her lips. He could tell she would crack the whole situation in ten seconds probably.

Lance took a quick glance back at Keith.“He was a gift from the Red Lord, one of the best knights from his personal guard, Kevin Mullet. For my trip.” He nodded at his mother. “So, we’ll be going for a long travel. Have you ordered enough supplies?”

“Of course, Lance. Your mother is not stupid.” Eelena spoke sharply, a hint of a smirk on her lips. She took her son’s hand in hers. They were warm, even through the thick gloves that protected them. Lance felt her squeeze a small piece of paper into his hands and enveloped his hand with hers tenderly. Her eyes now pierced his own. “Lance... Arus isn’t our land. Be careful there.” She caressed his hand tenderly.

“Of course, mother.” He smiled gently at her. The Blue Lord inhaled before turning around, a frown on his face. His voice went from pure and kind to strict and loud. “You heard her! Prepare the ship! We part to Arus this instant!”

The men ran to the ship and the standards were hoisted, carried by the west winds. Once on the moving vessel, the Lord finally opened his hand. The men rushed, to control the sails that pointed east. Lance leaned against the edge of the ship. On the rusty piece of paper, were the words: _Don’t let him alone near her. She won’t accept him. –S._

The paper slid between loose fingers. Lance watched it flow with the wind and dissolve on the salt water. He rose his gaze to the horizon. The fading buildings, the rising water. _So that was what Shiro had been worrying about, huh?_

His eyes ran to his side. Feet away, stood the disguised Red Lord, eyeing the Blue Lord with curiosity. In the bright sunlight, his worried grayish eyes glistened purple. _The Lord of Ashes_. Ashes were the remains of fire, the death of flame. As powerful as it sounded it was pejorative to address a lord after bastards’ surname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, now we're done with the pilots. Finally! The next chapters will have more important things in scene and will probably be longer than those two first.
> 
> Sorry again for the delay, guys! But college has been taking so much of my time and produtivity, I barely could find time to write and edit this chapter. Chapter 3 won't take as much time to be posted here, it's almost done! 
> 
> Leave any comments, kudos, anything you'd like! I'll try answering any questions without spoiling anything to you guys. If you'd like to talk to me directly, check my Tumblr on my profile. If you have any fanarts or posts about the fanfic, you can tag with #brokencrownfanfic or send it to me directly. Thank you for reading once again!


	3. Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter. (Gazrel city is heavily inspired by Braavos' Free City in GOT Tv Series).

“Kevin  _ fucking _ Mullett.” 

“Well, Lance was fucking Kevin not a minute ago.” Keith watched the grin grow on Lance’s face as he spoke those words. Keith couldn’t restrain his most disapproving expression.

“Why do you have to ruin things?” He replied with a disappointed sigh. 

“Oh no, Kevin Mullett is much better than Keith Kogane. Nothing is ruined.” Lance couldn’t simply stop showing that stupid face. Keith quirked an eyebrow at him. He quickly rolled away from Lance’s chest and laid down on the uncomfortable small bed. He stared up at the wooden ceiling of the ship, lost in his thoughts until an unpleasant man covered his sight. His eyes glistened in a dark shade of  blue under the weak candle light. His thin lips were now slightly purple from the cold. His brown freckled skin with hair sticking against it. Very unpleasant, indeed. Specially ugly when Lance stared at him with gleaming eyes, and his fingers softly brushed against Keith’s sunburnt face. How could he change from such a shit-eating grin to a blank yet loving expression so suddenly, Keith would never know. 

“Why don’t you stay with Kevin then?” Keith teased calmly, his voice softer than ever heard on public. It sounded almost like a curious question. He laid his hands on Lance’s bare back, slightly caressing the smooth skin.

“Because his name is Kevin Mullett, come on. I’m better than that.” Lance replied, smirking. Keith snorted a short laugh, landing his eyes on the candle burning over the bedside table.

“Anyway, don’t care about it. Do you know what I care about, Lance? It’s cold. Really fucking cold. We should get dressed.” He turned his gaze back to Lance again, shifting under his weight.

“Nooo...” The other man hid his face on Keith’s torso, wrapping his arms around him.

Keith grabbed Lance’s arms and tried to push them away from him softly, the sudden cold of having his bare chest exposed hitting him like a wagon. “Lance, I’m fucking freezing, just let me go. I shouldn’t even be here... You’re the captain, you could be summoned at any time by the crew.” He stared down at the man who had just lifted his face, resting his chin on Keith’s pale chest and stared at him blankly.

“What did you just say I was?” The corners of his lips twitched upwards. “Captain? Say that again. And maybe I’ll let you go.”

“Let me go now or I’ll punch you right in the nose, captain.” Keith grumbled and watched Lance smile widely before he unwrapped his arms from around him and rolled off the top of Keith to the short available space there was left on the bed. 

Keith Kogane stood up, his muscles trembling due to the sharp cold air his whole skin was  now fully bared to. He rushed to the pile of clothes on the ground and dressed himself as fast as he could. Once he was fully covered with thick underwear for his armor, he began to buckle the bottom of it. He glanced back at Lance, finding it odd he was so quiet. He just found the other man staring back at him blankly.

“Can you throw me my clothes too?” Lance asked, sitting up straight with some effort while he held a large blanket of fur around himself. Keith did as he requested, not missing an opportunity to aim for Lance’s face. He missed, lacking strength in fear to hurt the man, but Lance’s chuckles were enough a victory to him.

Not long after, they were both properly dressed and Lance now helped Keith to put his chest piece of armor after he’d done the same for him. “So... Are you ready? To persuade mystic Princess Allura to travel with a bunch of strangers?” Lance broke the silence with a smooth voice.

“Pfft, no. Though we’re not strangers at all.” Keith snorted a brief laugh. “We’ve visited the Altean castle once. And all of us kissed her hand. And you said she was definitely your future wife and that she was meant for you and all that cheesy shit.” He rolled his eyes, exhaling at the memories of younger Lance’s dramatic monologues.

“Aw, are you jealous, Kevin?” Lance teased, leaning closer to Keith’s shoulder to finish buckling his armor. “We were kids and Shiro was barely a teenager. She probably doesn’t even remember our faces at all. It was a long time ago. Though a magical being like her might have a super memory.”

“Maybe, but she’s not  _ magical _ , Lance.” Keith quickly answered, frowning slightly. It was known that the first Alteans came from a foreign small continent lost in natural disasters and conquered the entire South of the Common Land in a fairly short period of time. Little was known about their previous continent and culture. Therefore, the stories of how they conquered the land were filled with nothing but rumours. Rumours of how the Altean royal family members were seers, and sold prophecies and predictions in deals with the other lords of the land. However, the Altean  expansion had been a very long time ago and little was known about the royal family’s predictions and their accuracy. Specially since none had been heard about it in the recent times. Some said the royal family lost their skills with time, fading away in the bloodline; some said they were never even magical in the first place. Nowadays, most of the rumours held on their odd facial features and stories that had never been proved true. To Keith, they were simply legends told to make the royal family seem even more superior to the common folk. 

“She’s just the right heiress to the throne. By the way, we should be calling her Queen, not princess.” Keith added, breaking out of his thoughts.

Lance furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his lips shut, a hint of confusion in his expression. He leaned against the wooden wall, done with buckling the armor. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t be  _ that _ sure... I got a weird feeling from her when I met her.”

Keith took a small pause, staring at Lance, one eyebrow raised. “... May I ask  _ where _ did you get this weird feeling?”

“Fuck off, Keith.” Lance grunted, rolling his eyes and standing up. “You aren’t taking me seriously, forget it.” He stood up and walked toward a tall bookshelf that was stuck with the ground and ceiling. There were chains hanging horizontally in front of the shelves so the books wouldn’t fall with the small waves the ship came across. He got himself a couple of large old books and walked toward the cabin’s large desk.

“Well, how can I take you seriously? The Alteans being capable of predicting the future is like the most childish tale of all child tales.That they’re magical beings, fairies that blessed humans or whatever. Even if it was true, we’ll never know because, according to this stupid legend, they lost that power with time and because no one can say for sure if they’re ‘pure blood’. Even with the weird shit they used to do.” Keith replied annoyed, watching Lance leaning against the wood wall.

Lance kept quiet. He sat on a chair at the table and opened one of his books. His eyebrows were furrowed while he tried to read the words with the poor light from the few candles lit. Keith could tell he was, at the very least, offended. Keith sighed and grabbed one of the candles near the bed before he went to stand beside Lance. He placed the candle in front of the book.

“Sorry. Too rude.” He glanced at the letters on Lance’s book, trying to figure out the subject. “What are you reading about?”

“The Tale of the Five Lions.” Lance replied shortly, not moving a muscle to look at Keith.

“You’re really into mystic stuff. Have always been.” Keith leaned in closer, observing the figures. A gigantic lion with twice the size of an average height man and deep black fur stood before a bowing lord in one of the open pages. “I kind of like it. Most people back home can only talk with such wonder of war, wielding sword, throats being torn apart, stuff like that.”

“It’s not mystic stuff. They  _ did  _ exist. I’ve seen my father’s lion when I was a child, shortly before King Alfor ordered their execution.” Lance straightened up in his chair, turning his head to briefly face Keith’s. “You only believe what you see. If I told you I’ve never been with anyone else but you since we started this, would you believe me?” 

“Of course.” Keith nodded eagerly.

“But you have never seen it.” He shrugged, staring at the man.

“But it’s your word, I trust you on it. What I don’t trust is a book with very unrealistic drawings. This lion couldn’t have been twice the size of a man.” He pointed his index at the paper. “They  _ did _ exist but they couldn’t have been as powerful as it says, it’s impossible.” Keith sat on the table beside him darting his eyes at the book.

Lance rolled his eyes dramatically while groaning loudly. “Alright,  _ Kevin _ .” Keith simply snorted at that.

Lance landed his eyes back at the book and dove into his thoughts. Keith merely watched him think, wondering when they’d ever be this close again. It had been months since they had seen each other before this current meeting. The Blue Lord, who ruled the great majority of affairs with other nations and folks, barely had time to leave his port. And when he did, it was mostly for political formal events and to establish new commerce routes. Neither did the Red Lord had time to leave his ruling of the greatest military in the continent. The possibility of an alliance with Queen Allura was utter importance, enough to bring the two leaders together on a mission.

“Keith.” Lance cut his line of thought and the man shifted his attention to him, silently asking him to continue. “We’ll be arriving at Arus’ South Port by the morning. We should go over what we’ll have to do.” He spoke, his sharp features hardened into his ruler expression. 

“What  _ I _ ’ll have to do.” He landed his eyes on Lance. They’d come to the agreement that, to keep the secrecy of the mission, Keith would go undercover and sneak through the city in search of the princess all by himself, disguised as a foreigner passing by. Meanwhile, the Blue Lord would allege the whole trips to  financial negotiations and to a celebration of the increasing commerce between the nations. It was very convenient that Lance McClain was regularly invited to  _ and _ needed in such events.

“Do you think you’ll manage?” Lance seemed worried, his expression showing a hint of stress. His voice was soft and tender. Keith felt his chest tighten.

Keith nodded automatically. He  _ had _ to manage it. He couldn’t return empty handed. 

Lance slowly stood up and took a few steps toward him, his fingers idly placing themselves against Keith’s cheek. 

“Finding Allura might be difficult. But Coran doesn’t sound so hard. He  _ must _ have a clue on her.”  The taller man advised, his fingers lowering to Keith’s chin.

“He will.” The Red Lord assured him, eyes burning with determination. 

“Come to me first thing when you find something out. We should go there together. This is a very important request.”  Lance had such a caring voice, even if a little hoarse from shouting orders to the crew all day. 

Keith nodded. He wasn’t a very good diplomat, so there wasn’t much he could disagree on. He leaned against Lance, resting his chin on his shoulder. Keith inhaled deeply, feeling the sea scent fill his lungs. It was a scent he’d come to associate with Lance through the years. Now, even Keith smelled a little like it too from the long days of travelling. 

—

Gold. Emerald. Sapphire. 

Hunk’s large fingers brushed against his rings. Silver. This one particular ring was smaller than the others in his hands but it was his oldest. Words were engraved on it.

_ My rock. _

His chest felt heavy. He missed her. Honestly did. But more than anything, he was terribly worried for her now. He hadn’t received a letter from her in weeks. It was unusual. The distance between the Golden Valley and Balmera was usually crossed in only a few days by horse.

In her last letter, she’d told him how the Galra had cut off most of their commerce routes by occupying small villages nearby. The Balmera’s land was rich, grown above abundant crystal mines and other expensive rocks. The ruling house’s domain bordered the Golden Valley and they shared some veins of silver mines, though Balmera had most of the metal in their lands.

Shay Serrett, first daughter of house Serrett. That was his fiancée. His father thought it would be a good idea to join the houses that ruled the mining business in the Common Lands,s o their marriage had been set up since they were children. But that had never stopped him from falling in love with her through the years. Shay was wonderful, good, kind-hearted, determined. He was more than glad she was his fiancée. 

Now, she and her people were very probably in danger. Hunk hadn’t heard from her and the silence made him think the worst.

_ The Galra had finally taken military control of Balmera _ , he thought as his chest sunk.

No, he had to be rational. If that was true, Shay needed his help more than ever. Not only her but all of the Balmeran people. 

Hunk drew a long breath and laid his eyes on the large map engraved on the wooden table. It was a reliable miniature of the Common Lands, mounts rising and rivers sinking. The table was a beautiful sculpture of the continent made in dark wood. It had been being used used by the Voltron Lords to plan strategic battles long before Hunk was even born. 

He observed the small statues representing the house’s respective troops and armies, resting his gaze on the Balmeran land. The Balmera was a large place, full of smaller districts and houses. Most of the minor cities and villages surrounding Balmera were ruled by vassals of the Serretts. 

According to Shay’s latest letters, the great majority of them had Galra military presence now. Hunk longed to take his eyes off the Galra pieces on the table, those being represented by the head of a wolf. He had been stubborn to accept his defeat, he wanted more than anything to believe Shay was okay. But he couldn’t. It was very likely a lie.

“Is it Balmera?” Shiro’s voice interrupted Hunk’s thoughts.   
  
Hunk rose his gaze to meet Shiro’s curious eyes, he didn’t look troubled or worried. Hunk was thankful for that. He’d already warned Shiro about the Shay’s possible danger, so it wasn’t such a surprise. He nodded at the eldest and turned his face back to the map. The heads of wolves placed along Balmera’s frontiers and a little further inside. However…   
  
“It’s strange.” Hunk spoke, furrowing his eyebrows. “Shay’s castle is big, well protected, they have huge walls around it. Also, due to the possibility of a war, Lord Serrett stored enough food for two years, according to Shay’s letters.” He bit the inside of his mouth, trying to focus on the pieces of a puzzle trying to fit together in his mind. 

  
“It’s been almost three weeks since she sent me one. Usually she replies in less than one.” A long pause. “Let’s suppose… The Galra arrived  _ here _ .” He moved the closest wolf piece to the Serrett castle, in the north of the Balmeran lands. “Lord Serret could see them coming with some anticipation, lock themselves inside the walls. The Galra army would make a siege around the castle. They could also send a few messengers through the tunnels underground. But we haven’t heard anything. Not even rumors. Something is wrong.”

Hunk exhaled loudly, shutting his eyes. It wasn’t worth to try to figure out what was happening on his own. He’d think the worst.   
  
“The Whisperer must know something.” Shiro laid a heavy hand on Hunk’s shoulder, his face showing concern for the man. Hunk could see Shiro’s expression from the corner of his sight but he didn’t take his eyes away from the map.   
  
“Send a letter.” Hunk’s voice sounded weak, showing how vulnerable he felt at the moment. Because for now, there wasn’t much he could do. They had to know the situation at Balmera to strike. For now, he was powerless. All he could do was wait.

—

The capital of Arus, Gazrel, was a portuary city. That meant: a crowd in every street, loud merchants and countless stands selling everything imaginable. The capital was fairly distant from the coast’s markets, probably where the bigger business men lived and ruled the commerce. The buildings became larger as they grew away from the shore. The man he was looking for probably lived in one of those edifices.

Coran Smythe was a famous merchant back in King Alfor’s days. He grew rich on trading nearly everything and eventually got closer to the royal family and became one of Alfor’s personal advisor and friend. Unlike Alfor himself, and a good portion of his advisors, Coran was believed to be alive. 

Before the King’s death, the princess went missing. The rumors about her possible death  spread all across the continent like wildfire. Until a few years later, when it became common knowledge to most nobles that she’d ran with Alfor’s closest friend, Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, to Arus where Zarkon could not invade to kill her without starting another war.

It’d be hard to find him. Keith had no clue of where he lived. He’d only been informed it was in this city and that the princess probably lived with him. He wondered how could a famous fugitive live in such a populous city. Even if the Galra couldn’t invade Arus for now, hiding in plain sight was a risky technique. Especially for the last member of the royal family.

So Keith’s mission was to find out where Coran lived so he could interrogate the man on Allura’s location, or if in fact, she lived with him. And eventually contact Lance about it, since he was a much better diplomate than himself. But it was a huge city. A commercial city at last, where there were countless rich merchants. How would he find one especifically? Maybe Keith could simply ask one of the locals, or would that be too suspicious? 

Keith slithered among the crowds through the city’s narrow streets while he thought of a solution. All kinds of people carried all kinds of products as he walked, yelling as loud as they could to get attention.   
  
“Fresh warm milk, ladies and gentlemen, from the best cows of Arus! The king himself drinks this milk!”   
  
“The Common Lands’ jewels, my lords. The nobles from the other continent wear those same jewels I sell you today for a much higher price!”

“Oysters, clams and cockles! Oysters, clams and cockles!”

The Blue Lord had given a day of break to most of his soldiers, when he arrived at the royal castle for his meeting with the Arusian Coin Master. It wasn’t very wise in a foreign country to let most of your guard have a resting day. It could easily turn into an ambush for Lance. But it was a risk worth taking if they wanted the mission to go unnoticed. So Keith Kogane, or ‘Kevin Mullet’, was one of the first to leave. He was still wearing  his Blue soldier armour under a large black cloak. However, he was still one of the Voltron Lords, making it not so hard for someone to recognize him. That was one of his biggest fears at the moment.

And it soon gained flesh and bone. Through the  thick crowd, he could see the piercing eyes of an unknown figure on him. White as ice, under a dark purple hood. His bones shivered.  _ Galra _ .

His eyes ran around, spotting other three similar dark cloaks surrounding him.  _ It was an ambush _ . Keith was said to be the best swordsman in the Common Lands, he wouldn’t be taken down so easily. However, he didn’t know if there were more of them hidden. 

He lowered his head under his hood and rushed amidst the people. He was a fairly small man, he could get lost in the crowd if needed to. At least until reaching a bigger space where he could swing a sword to defend himself.

Before he could notice, the first dark cloaked figure he had spotted was in front of him. How they were so fast, he didn’t know. The man under it had sharp features: high cheekbones and a prominent nose. His white eyes gleamed in the sunlight, oily strands of ebony hair hanging in front of his face.

“We mean no harm, Keith Ashes.” A hoarse voice.

At the mention of the name, Keith shivered. Not by fear or fright for recognizing him. That he expected to happen, he was prepared for that.  No, it was  _ anger _ . To be called a  _ bastard _ . Few were brave, or stupid enough to call him that name in front of him. His hand unconsciously reached for his sword, pushing away its cape. He took a step back and his knees bended in defensive position. He wasn’t flashy about it though, he made slow careful movements. He was ready to attack if needed, but wouldn’t draw attention by starting a fight in the middle of a crowd. 

“We’re here to help.” The man spoke again, eyeing Keith’s hand warily.

“By  _ insulting  _ me?” He grunted, not moving an inch.

The unknown man fixed his eyes on Keith’s. For a moment, he seemed to simply study the Lord’s expression. Then, he smiled. It was very small but it was there, a soft twitch on the edge of his lips. Keith’s muscles  _ burned _ . The stranger ambushed him, claimed to be in peace, insulted his dead father, himself and it  _ amused _ him. Keith did his best to not wield his sword and slice that person in two pieces. He was glad when the stranger quickly returned to his serious expression.

“Follow me.” And with that, the Galra turned on his heels and walked away. Keith restrained the urge punch the man on the back. He didn’t know why, it may had been a stupid decision, but he did follow him.

They ended up in a nearby alley, corner to one of the main roads in the city. Garbage littered the ground and there was a strong smell of shit. Some dogs strayed away from the pounds of  trash when they walked in the alley. 

With quick reflexes, Keith rushed to the man, whacking him on the chest. He drew out his dagger and pressed it against the stranger’s throat, setting it under his jawline. He didn’t find resistance from the man in his attack, and that was odd at least. His other arm pressed his chest, pinning him against the wall. Keith leaned against him, tightening his grip on the dagger.

“Tell me why you’re here.” Keith threatened. “Where are the others?”

The Galra didn’t react, he seemed to expect the uncomfortable situation. His expression remained calm.

“They’re not here with us. As I’ve said before, our intention is not to harm you, Red Lord.”

“And what  _ is _ your intention?” Keith pressed the blade a little harder against the man’s skin, not enough to draw blood. 

“ _ This _ .” His eyes moved rest on dagger’s hilt. “Not everyone can possess a luxite blade like yours.”

“And what do you have do with it?” Keith visibly flinched a little, but quickly regained his posture.

“Depends on how you got it.” The man responded unfazed. “Yours is stolen.”

“I make the questions.” Keith warned again, leaning closer to him. His eyes were the most threatening he could manage. He focused all the anger of the offense to his deceased father on his gaze. “And I didn’t steal it.” He spat the words, dripping with poison.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you.” 

“That’s not how this works.”

Keith expected him to resist. But he kept quiet for an instant, staring down at Keith. Then he opened his mouth widely, large enough for his tongue to slide down. Keith’s eyebrows went up and he held his breath back.

Through the extension of the stranger’s tongue a long deformed black ‘S’ was tattooed in black ink. It was identical to the symbol carved on the hilt of the dagger that was pressed against his throat, the one symbol Keith had been hiding in rags for years in fear of what it possibly meant.

Keith’s chest sunk. To him, that dagger had always been all he had left from his mother. He had looked for that symbol’s meaning, but no house or known banners had it. It had always been a buried mystery to him. Something he’d just associate with his mother, who died shortly after giving birth to him. He had never even met her so he could never even have asked her what it meant.

Something visceral was twisting inside of him. He knew his expression showed it. His eyes widened, his face muscles tensed up. He gripped the hilt of the dagger as if he could get a hold of himself with that motion. Then, he was brought back to reality. The icy eyes stared down at him as if he was patiently waiting for Keith to process the information.

“How do you…?” It was the only thing Keith managed to say, his voice cracking. He still kept a tight grip on his blade.

The stranger retrieved his tongue, clenching his jaw as he looked down at the disguised Lord. “We’re a secret organization. If you have a blade with its symbol engraved on its hilt and has not yet heard of that means someone must’ve given it to you. We have reasons to believe it wasn’t stolen at all. It was a test.”

Keith had no time to speak. He couldn’t even if he tried. He didn’t know what to think about this situation.

“We’re the Blade of Marmora.” The man continued. “We’re a resistance to Zarkon’s Empire, Galra people ourselves against his wicked ways. I can’t give you more information about us. There are too many people here.” He paused. “I can give you my name though. I’m Ulaz. Can you let me go now?”

Keith swallowed dry, his Adam’s apple popping up and down on his throat. He had been threatening the man during their whole conversation, if answering questions with a blade against your neck could be called simply a threat. Keith slowly took a step back, lowering the dagger closer to his body, still suspicious. Ulaz released a heavy breath, his eyes going shut for a moment. He quickly moved his head, cracking his neck loudly to both sides. His movements were stiff and precise, as if every inch of his body focused on the next movement he had to make, even if they were as simple as cracking your neck and he was now free from the dagger’s blade.

“We’re here to help. We know who you’ve been looking for. And we have their location.” Ulaz proceeded to explain and fastly shoved his hand in one of the large pockets of the cloak. He retrieved his hand closed and extended it towards Keith. His long fingers spread open, revealing a moldy piece of creased paper.

Keith eyed his hand suspiciously before slowly reaching for the paper. He grabbed it and gave Ulaz a warning glare before lowering his eyes to quickly read the message. There was indeed an address there.

“It’s your best clue.” Ulaz’s voice cut through the brief silence. “Don’t forget about us. We’ll come to you, Keith Ashes.” He continued.

Keith rose his gray eyes to meet the man’s. Minutes ago, he would’ve been boiling with rage by the mention of bastard’s surname. But now, it was collected, gathered up in hatred. He’d protest over the mention of a possible future meeting, how that would never happen again. However, he didn’t. He kept silence. Ulaz had dug his most intimate insecurities and fears like it was a famous rumour. He supposed it had always been a famous rumour, people just didn’t talk to him about it.

“My name is Kogane.” Keith managed to speak, full of bitterness.

Ulaz replied with a ghost of a smile on his lips and adjusted his hood back to cover most of his face. He took a couple of steps away from the wall he’d been leaning against and turned on the heels of his feet.

“Goodbye, Lord Kogane.” And with that, he walked away of the alley, leaving Keith to wonder what he’d do next.

—

It was early morning in the Black Castle, but the Yellow and Black Lord had gathered to continue their financial reports over the past year while Takashi had been gone. Maps and all sorts of letters were scattered over the table while Hunk skimmed through them in search for something more important.

The Black Lord sat at the head of the table and had been idly reading a written report about the rising sales to Gazrel. His shoulders were slouched down, and he leaned his head on his hand. He looked very informal, utterly bored as a common man of twenty-five as reading a boring long report. Hunk smiled small at the scene. If it weren’t for the recent scars that still marked his face and arm, he could pretend they were still young heirs to the houses and were only memorizing houses and maps so their fathers would be proud of them.

“How do you think Lance and Keith are doing?” Hunk asked, bringing the subject up in the most casual way he could manage. 

Shiro rose his gaze from the document, laying his bored eyes on Hunk and took a few moments to respond. He straightened himself in his chair and stretched his arms to the front, stretching himself. Reading so much probably made him sleepy.

“I don’t know. They’re probably arriving at the Strings’ Harbor now.” He spoke, leaning back against the chair.

“You think Lady Eelena received the letters?” Hunk asked, crossing his arms over the table. He wasn’t sitting on his usual seat, now taking place on the closest chair to Shiro, by his left.

“I’m sure. We’ve sent the first one on the day they left, there’s no way they could be faster than a bird.” Shiro gave Hunk a small amused smile. Then, his expression dropped, eyebrows furrowing in some sort of concern. Hunk could see he gnawing the inside of his cheek before he spoke. “But… I feel uncertain about it.” 

“About Keith?” He asked, the same concern in his voice. Keith Kogane being a bastard was a rumour as old as himself.

Shiro shook his head faintly. “No.” A short pause. “I mean, yes. But mostly… About Allura. Keith has never let the rumour about his mother shake him publicly. However, the other part of that same rumour may get to Allura’s nerves quickly. Who knows how much hatred she’s gathered  during those years for the race that destroyed her family and people.”

Shiro was right. Hunk hated to admit it. Trusting the diplomatic mission to Lance had been the best option indeed, even though Keith had chosen to follow him. It wasn’t a wise decision but the Red Lord had insisted on it. It’d show the Heiress the urgency of the alliance and Keith was the best swordsman in known land, so Lance would be more protected. Even if it was uncertain, they had embraced that risk.

His thoughts were cut off by a servant walking inside the room. Shiro immediately straightened himself in his chair, crossing his arms over the table and earning back that authoritarian aura he normally had.

“My Lord. The Whisperer has returned your letter.” The messenger declared, placing the letter on the table after bowing to his lord.

Shiro nodded, giving the servant a nod with a gentle smile. He was held dear by his people, always being respectful and kind to his servers. The man was waved off and Shiro began to unfold the letter.

“Read it out loud.” Hunk requested immediately, almost like a plea. He couldn’t handle his anxiousness from trying to figure out what the letter meant from the look on Shiro’s face.

He nodded and cleared his throat before pronouncing the words clearly in the leader voice he’d always had.

“To Takashi Shirogane, The Black Lord, Warden of Voltron, blah blah…” Shiro rolled his hand in the air, beside the paper. “I have not yet heard from the Balmera capital itself. Little have my whispers told me about its situation. However, I have heard from nearby villages acknowledging large Galra troops marching toward it in the past week. We can most surely assume they have invaded the city, or at least, have a siege around it, blocking any attempts of communication with the outside.”

“About Lance McClain and Keith Kogane…” Takashi continued. “...They have parted toward Arus two days ago. They barely have stepped on land as you’ve requested. I haven’t heard from them yet.”

“Regards, the Whisperer.” Shiro concluded with a heavy sigh following. Usually, Lady Eelena filled her letters with information as well as considerable good strategy suggestions. Now, they were in the dark. They knew very little of the Balmeran current situation, very little about Lance and Keith, how could they plan their actions?

Hunk rose his brownish eyes to meet Shiro’s. He saw his feelings mirrored in his expression, they were both lost. Hunk furrowed his eyebrows and looked down, narrowing his eyes as the engines clicked in his head to try to make a solution that wasn’t simply sitting by and waiting.

“We can’t get access to Keith’s army until he gets back…” Shiro’s mumbled voice filled in the void. Hunk could see from the corner of his eyes Shiro had slouched back at the chair, resting his forehead on his hand and eyes shifting from spots in the table as if they followed the dots his mind connected. “They are mining us. The Green Lord Samuel, Matthew...  _ me _ , and now your fiancée. They are getting all the strings they can to choke us at the first opportunity. I don’t think she is...” Shiro rose his anguished gaze to meet Hunk’s and he didn’t need to finish that phrase.

He shut his eyes with some strength. The mere thought of it haunted him. The Galra weren’t known for being gentle and honorous to their deceased enemies. His features twisted in disgust, pressing his lips together. He had heard the stories. The falling remains of the Altean reign, weeping over their halls, hanging on ropes. Very few had gone to the ancient abandoned Altean castle to know. Rumours were the land had been cursed by the Galra Empress. 

Shay could not have that same fate. Neither her nor her people.

Amidst his thoughts, he heard footsteps. Distant, rushed ones. As he turned to look in their direction, he saw the room’s door being slowly dragged half-open. The person behind it was still too little, the least strong of them.

“Shiro.” The Green Lord called in urgency, his widened eyes laying on Shiro. He had dark rings under them, lips parted open and drawing long breaths from them. It seemed as if he had been running, he probably had, since no messenger had come previously to warn the resident Lord of his arrival. He was also wearing his armor, he seemingly had just jumped off his horse and ran directly to the Council’s room.

The short man hastened to the Black Lord, slamming his hand against the wood in front of him. “We’re out of time.” He breathed out, staring directly at Shiro. It was only after he noticed Shiro’s clear delay and confusion at processing the situation that Pidge Holt seemed to notice the Yellow Lord’s presence, shifting his body to look at him.

“We indeed are.” Hunk agreed.

—

The mansion was gorgeous. Or at least had been once.

After a long walk, Keith had reached a part of the city with large houses and buildings with close resemblance to palaces. He supposed those were for the rich merchants that lived in Gazrel or simply, one of their multiple mansions across lands since most of them were empty. The only people that walked through those streets were a few servants that could be recognized by their very simple yet elegant clothes. Often one carriage would pass quickly, taking nobles to the center of the city. He had found the address with some effort, on the edges of the rich suburban area.

The walls were of white marble rising high in an inventive architecture. It had more towers than it was possibly needed for one single merchant mansion. The building was covered with fairly large closed windows, made of dark wood. Keith approached the front gate, peeping through a fairly large rift between the dusty planks of wood. He could spot the walls of the ground floor with even more windows, and the front door, all closed.

There was also an enormous front garden which would have been beautiful if it was, at least, alive. The grass was long past yellow, and he could see the broad dry branches that might once have been shaped like animals, dead figures following through a stone path toward the mansion’s front door. It seemed as if had been abandoned for a few years to say the least. 

A cold shiver rushed through his spine. What if it was actually an ambush?

He reached out for his dagger, his fingers wrapping around the grip of it. If it weren’t made of steel, the thought he might have broken it.  _ Think, Keith, think. _ He repeated to himself silently, as his eyes quickly searched his surroundings. Silence. No soul roamed through the streets.

He could be as good as dead. That fear hit him. He only wished he could see Lance one more time. That annoyingly beautiful smile. Wait. What kind of wish was that? He would  _ definitely  _ see Lance more times. He wouldn’t die like this, like a sitting duck. He was Keith Kogane, for God’s sake. He had come here and ambush or not, he would get inside this house.

No matter how fearful of a surprise attack he was, he could only hear nothing but the annoying sound of birds chirping. He had to get moving, a hooded figure just standing there was weird enough. He stared at the large moldy wooden gate and it wasn’t that high at all. His eyes ran through the rusty knob and a slightly broken piece of wood near the top of the gate, that stuck into the gate.

His new knight armor was heavy but he had gotten used to it for the past couple of weeks, also his leather gloves had some friction in the middle of it.  _ Good. _ He could handle it. 

He walked closer to the door, grabbing one of the metal locks above the knob to test its stability. He placed a foot over the knob, settling it steady there before taking impulse and starting to climb the door. Two precise yet swift steps up and Keith had his hand upon the wood, firming himself there. He bent his body so he could rely on the highest step safely. With one pull, he drew his head up the door, glimpsing whatever was behind it.

A figure was kneeled on the ground and it held up a bow with an arrow aimed straight at Keith’s head popped up on the door. He could only hear the snapping sound of the string. In a reflex, Keith lowered his head while tilting it to the side to avoid the shot. He felt the blade ripping the side of his cheek superficially, leaving a cut that followed his jawline up to the middle of his cheek. He grunted in pain yet didn’t let go off the door, his fingers curling around the edge of it with enough strength to deform the door’s edge.

After one second to draw in a proper breath, he placed his other hand firmly over the door and lifted himself up in a quick pull. He laid his foot over the top of the door, using it as an impulse to jump further from the door.

He landed on both his feet, bending his knees close to the ground to soften the fall as much as he could. He spread his legs in opposite directions in order to turn in the direction of the shooter and bent his knees in defensive position, ready to dodge if needed. His hand reached out for a smaller dagger tied to his boot. The blade flew from his hand with precision, but the stranger was fast as well, rolling to the ground as he avoided the knife.

Keith could take in who the man finally was, the long ginger hair and mustache were unmistakable. This was no time to think about it. No matter who that man was, he wanted to  _ kill  _ him. Keith had at least to immobilize him.

He took advantage of the ginger man moment to recover his aim and sprinted forward and running toward the man as he reached out for his ‘luxite’ blade. He lowered his hand and swifted the weapon through the air, targeting at Coran’s neck and only stopping inches away from his skin.

They were in a curious position. Coran had knelt and had his arrow perfectly aiming for Keith’s stomach, while Keith’s blade lingered near Coran’s neck artery. One movement and they would both be gone. 

Keith panted out loudly, drawing in sharp intakes of breath as he looked down at the man. Now that they were still, he could take in the view of the man. Keith had only spoken to Coran once when he was a child in a visit to the castle, when the man used to stay by the king’s side.

In comparison to before, the man seemed much more older. He had bags under his eyes and age creases on his forehead as he frowned deeply which made them even more noticeable. His small dark blue eyes were on Keith’s, holding up a deadly stare. He couldn’t see his lips since they were hidden his large ginger mustache. His hair was remarkably longer, tied up in a small ponytail on the base of his nape. He wore casual brownish clothing, he could easily have been mistaken for a common peasant.

The pain on his cheek throbbed now that Keith was standing still, blood starting to cool. His face muscles ached in every breath he drew. But he still had to talk.

“I thought the house was abandoned.” He spoke with considerable effort, frowning as he tried to ignore the pain. “I meant a peaceful approach.”

“Maybe peaceful means something else where you come from.” Coran spit out, a hoarse voice.

Okay. This was the moment. Keith had to be convincing. He tried to remember Lance’s soothing voice as he often taught him how to persuade people.

“I come from the Crimson Lands. I’m a Lord of Voltron. I wish to speak to Princess Allura.” Keith spoke, gripping the blade with more strength. He feared he might start shaking.

Coran’s eyes were shot open for a brief moment of surprise. He ran his eyes through Keith’s expression as if trying to put the pieces together, a wave of recognition hitting him. This was Keith’s moment to intervene.

His free hand slowly started moving to his pocket. Coran noticed that movement and pulled back the string of his bow more forcefully.

“It’s not a weapon. I swear. I want to convince you.” Keith said, not turning his look away from Coran’s but keeping his hand still. Coran didn’t move, but simply followed his hand with his eyes. Keith took that as an ‘yes’ to continue. He reached for the inner pocket of his cloak and removed a silver ring with the lion engraved. The possession of a Voltron Lord. He grabbed it and opened his hand in front of Coran so the man could analyze the content of it.

Coran stared at the ring for mere few seconds then shifted his eyes, narrowing them at Keith. He tugged at the string, still aiming at Keith’s stomach. “Drop your weapons.”

Keith wanted to protest. Lance was supposed to deal with Coran and Allura, he was a wonderful diplomat. Much better than Keith was. However, Coran probably wouldn’t be very open to  bargain later. Also, how would he defend himself if Coran were to attack him? He could shoot an arrow straight through his ribcage and goodbye, Keith.

Regardless of his thoughts, he had to risk it. This was the chance to meet the  _ one _ Princess Allura and convince her to join the war they were about to start. Keith wasn’t at all convinced this was the best option, but Lance had been persistent about this matter. In a brief moment, Keith wondered how had Lance been so certain this princess was the real one. The house was abandoned, and if the truly princess lived there, she seemed not to leave much. The informant  could have just told him a bluff for extra money. Princess Allura had been hiding, probably in fear from possible killers since she had left the Common Lands. Zarkon could easily hire a few assassins and all legal threat to his reign would have been eliminated. Every Lord of Voltron knew who Lance’s main informant was, even if it was supposedly a hidden identity: the Whisperer, Lance’s own mother. She wasn’t easily mistaken, Keith could at least trust her words. It was worth the risk, he told himself.

Keith held Coran’s gaze as his hand spread open, dropping his blade. It hit the rock with a loud clunk. His fingers wrapped around his ring and saved it in his pocket once again. Coran still held up his bow aimed at him, but stood up slowly. He paced around Keith and stopped about ten feet away from him, arrow never leaving his direction. 

“All of them.” Coran ordered, eyes running Keith’s legs. “And kick them over.”

Keith almost groaned. If he wanted to kill this man, he would already have done it. How could Lance deal with such formalities even if his intentions were  _ this  _ obvious? Damn it. He clenched his jaw, as his hand slowly moved to reach the small knives on his boots and a larger dagger on the side of his hip. He wouldn’t dare bring a large sword with him on that day, the armor did enough to slow him down and tire him faster. He placed them carefully on the ground in front of him, and kicked them over to Coran one by one.

After that, Coran finally lowered his bow and put his arrow back in a quiver. His eyes didn’t leave Keith, who remained as still as a stone, while Coran carefully picked up the blades, placing some them inside his large pockets and tying the rest of them to his belt. Once he’d been done, he didn’t raise his bow again, but still kept it to his side. He seemed calmer now that Keith could easily be taken down if he tried anything.

“The Red Lord of Voltron, Lord of the Crimson Lands, Keith Kogane.” Coran declared as if he analyzed every detail of the words he’d just said.

“I also speak in behalf of the Blue Lord, Lance McClain. He’s sent me here. We’ve decided to keep this mission a secret in order to make it safer.” Keith affirmed, keeping his head high. This was no lie, he could work on that.

“Lance McClain doesn’t have any messengers of his own?” Coran asked, furrowing his eyebrows lightly in suspicion.

“But to negotiate with the Princess? We have a request of urgent and utter importance. Only a Lord could deliver this message. The Blue Lord was supposed to come as well, but as I’ve said before, we’ve decided to keep this mission secret to preserve the princess’ safety. So only I have come today.”

“Voltron hasn’t made any contact with the Princess for the past six years and comes here to request something?” Coran asked, tilting his head to the side almost as in mockery.

Keith was pissed. He was tired of telling the truth and being called a liar, but he couldn’t lose it to his temper. This was too important.

“It is important. I swear on my colors.” He said firmly, turning all his anger in determination.

Coran seemed to consider that offer for a while. He shifted his weight on his feet, scratching his puffy moustache with his free hand while he gazed at Keith. His expression suddenly became more serious, stiffening his features. He looked around, checking their surroundings as if he expected people had been spying on them.

“We shouldn’t speak here.” Coran advised in a quiet voice. He looked over at Keith and made a motion with his head. “Follow me, Keith Kogane.”

Keith wouldn’t refuse that. Coran walked around the building, leaving his guard down as he turned his back to Keith. He seemed to be more concerned over the possibility of someone else watching them than Keith attacking him from the back as he was taking quick glances around as he walked. Keith supposed he had remembered that him and Coran weren’t strangers at all. Coran had met him as a shy bad tempered child who followed his father into strange places with an annoyed frown. He hated those visits he had to pay to nasty Lords and Ladies when he accompanied his father to events because he was his first son and heir, the legacy of the Kogane family. He could almost remember his father’s ‘ _ don’t do or you’ll upset me _ ’ face. His chest tightened a bit at the brief memory of him that crossed his mind. He needed to focus.

Coran stopped near two dead bushes with a bunch of dead leaves holding to the branches on with their last strength. He squatted and tapped the ground under him, knocking a few times on it. Yes, knocking. It sounded like he was hammering wood, not dirt as Keith expected. Coran opened his arms and shoved his gloved fingers onto the Earth, and lifted a small wooden plank from there. There was a dark square hole under it, only large enough for an average sized man to slide down. Keith couldn’t see much down there but the little of the stone walls the daylight reached. A secret passage.

“Jump in. You’ll land just fine.” Coran said, backing away from the opening to give Keith a passage.

Keith was going to ask where this was taking him, since Coran could be locking him down there and nobody would ever know where he was. He inhaled, looking at the man with an expression that clearly translated that he didn’t like this.

“You jump first. How can I trust you it’s not a trap and you won’t lock me up there? You already have my weapons.” Keith asked, narrowing his eyes.

Coran furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He looked down at the hole quickly and then up at Keith.

“Alright.” He agreed with less seriousness. “It’s better like that.” He added with a soft nod. With that, he smoothly slid his legs into the hole and let himself fall.

Keith had no idea what he meant by that. He wondered how Coran went so suddenly from ripping his face with an arrow to agreeing with his suggestions. Perhaps Coran thought he wasn’t such a threat now that Keith was disarmed. But Keith was fast and he knew he could outrun Coran and take one of his weapons back, putting up a fight. That wasn’t a problem.

Keith followed Coran into the hole. The floor was nearly eight feet underground and Keith landed as graceful as a feline, straightening himself once he had taken the impact. Coran had already been waiting for him to close the opening with a long metal stick, pushing the wood plank back to its place.

They were in a dark long corridor. He supposed it was long at least. It was so dark he couldn’t see where it ended. It was fairly narrow and made only of stones, reminding Keith of a dungeon. Once Coran closed the opening, the place turned even darker. A few nearly burnt out candles lit the walls, only enough to barely see the ground.  

“Follow me.” Keith looked toward Coran’s voice direction, spotting his silhouette. He took one of the candle holders on the wall and brought it closer to him. He suddenly begun walking down the corridor. It wasn’t as long as Keith supposed, spotting a door after a few steps. When they approached it, Coran stopped in front of it. He knocked loudly on it with his free hand.

“Code Blue!” He yelled against it. Keith supposed it was the code for a stranger. He couldn’t help being anxious, why would Coran yell for a single person on the house? It wasn’t like the Princess would walk around with a sword and attack anyone who wasn’t Coran, right? In the worst case, Keith quickly plotted a way in his mind to steal his dagger back and run… to where exactly, he didn’t know.

It took a single full minute for something beyond muffled noises to be heard in response. And it was a soft thud, of rock hitting rock. Coran held the large knob on the door and slowly opened it, the heavy door howling as it was spread. A deep smell of rotten meat filled his nostrils and he did his best to keep a straight face.

Keith took a while to take in the whole place. It was still underground, no sunlight came in. But the ceiling was quite higher so he supposed they were under the mansion now. The place was much brighter with a chandelier hanging over it and torches around the walls. The room was also made of stone but it was much more polished, the surface of the floor and walls much more clean. On one right of the room, he could see light stone stairs that led to a hacht. This room was probably the mansion’s basement. On the other side, he could see another door closed shut. He wondered what was in there. And finally, in the middle of the room, was the person he’d crossed a sea to meet.

It was her. He could remember her face from their brief meetings when they were young and honestly, she hadn’t changed much. Except that now she was a woman, not a child and she looked stunning. Not only because she was gorgeous, but because of the aura she held. She was a royal from birth and that surely hadn’t left her. Even in a basement, sitting on a dusty stone bench, she was a mesmerizing sight. 

Princess Allura sat cross-legged in front of him, eyeing him with utter apathy. Her deep blue irises matched the cerulean details of her pink silk dress. Two pieces of fabric covered her breasts, enlaced themselves in a large iron ring and fell, caressing the ground. Her hair fell in long graceful silver curls, embracing her arms and landing on the bench beside her waist. She had the posture of a proper princess, but the aura of an empress.

After a few seconds, her eyes were shot open wide in recognition of who she faced. She lost her composure in the surprise, jaw slightly dropping and leaning forwards as if she wanted to make sure of what she saw.

“Keith Ashes.” She muttered to herself, eyes going down and up on him, analyzing every inch of his being before staring at his eyes. Then, she gained her structure back, eyelids falling as her apathetic look came back and straightened her spine.

_ Twice in a fucking single day _ . Keith wasn’t a bastard. A lord of Voltron would never raise a bastard the way his father raised him to be his heir. It would be a disgrace to his father’s name. And to his mother’s, Shiro’s oldest sister who was the most noble person he’d ever heard about. She would have  _ never _ have betrayed her vows to her husband, even if she had utterly despised him. He had never met her, of course. He could never know. So any offense to his deceased mother and father was the worst of insults. He had taken in too much of them.

He grinded his teeth so forcefully he thought they might break. But his eyes didn’t leave Allura’s stare. Two seconds of being in the same room as her and he already wanted to crack her neck.

“What do you wish for, Ashes?” Her voice was a smooth cut through the silence, restrained yet powerful as the royal she was.

“Kogane, my Lady. I’m Keith Kogane, Lord of the Crimson Lands. I bring a message from  the council of Voltron.” He tightened his hands together behind his back.

Coran walked in the conversation, his hand placed respectfully on his chest as he begun talking to the princess. “My Princess, he claims to have crossed sea with the Blue Lord for this purpose.”

“Why isn’t Lance McClain here then?” Allura asked, raising her chin and tilting her head to face Keith. 

Keith felt his blood turn cold. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came from it. He cleared his throat.

“This is an undercover mission, Princess Allura. We do not want to risk your safety. The Blue Lord and I came to the agreement that I’d search for your location and when I’d be sure of where you were, we’d both come here together to propose our offer. However, Mister Smythe has found me in the process and here I am.” He explained as calm as he could be, keeping a straight face.

A small pause as Allura seemed to consider his words. “And what offer would be that?” She asked in a curious voice.

Keith felt a wave of relief rush through him. An opportunity. He cleared his throat and rose his chin to hold her gaze. “Princess Allura. As you might know, the Common Lands are being slowly taken over by Zarkon. But his pace on invading cities has fastened up since the Crimson Battle five years ago, when four of the five Lords of Voltron died all at once.”

“The Common Lands  _ needs _ a new ruler. When your father governed, he left the houses fairly independent as long as they obeyed a few common rules.” Keith cleared his throat. “Our offer is to help you get back to the throne that is rightfully yours, Princess Allura.” He bowed softly.

Keith wouldn’t tell her about the marriage proposal. Not now. She looked like she despised his mere presence in this room, he shouldn’t push his offer.

Allura widened her eyes slightly, parting her lips open. Her eyes ran to Coran, who’d been silent during the conversation. He mimicked her expression for a brief moment, then pressed his lips shut, seeming to put some thought on the matter. He looked down thoughtfully, finger idly rubbing his moustache.

“My princess…” Coran began speaking, raising his head to her. However, Allura cut whatever he had to say with a hand gesture. Her expression seemed darker than before and she exchanged a long gaze with Coran, as if they could read each other’s minds. 

Allura sighed softly and regained her posture. She laced her hands together on her legs gracefully. Her eyes landed back on Keith and he instantly knew this wasn’t over.

“Is that all?”

Keith drew in a long breath through his nostrils. “It’s the most important. We’re offering you our entire army, our entire ship fleet.  _ If _ you ally to us to defeat the Galra rising empire. We can avenge your father.” 

Allura frowned. Because of a much deeper feeling than the soft furrow of her eyebrows and the disgusted twist of her lips let show. Keith could tell that just from the look she gave him.

“Don’t you talk to me of my father,  _ bastard _ .” She spat the words with distaste.

Well. Keith’d had it. He had had it with anyone offending his family. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he’d just let his rage flow towards the nearest person. He took a step ahead as if ready to fight the person ahead of him. He was sure he was frowning as hard as it was as possible. He’d swear he could start combusting in rage.

“Me and Lance have crossed the ocean to approach  _ you _ ! The Commons Lands,  _ your _ land, is on the verge of a  _ war _ ! And all you care about is the old rumour that I’m a fucking bastard!” Keith yelled harder than his lungs could take it. He could feel the vibrations in his throat that would eventually hoarse his voice.

Allura didn’t even flinch at his outburst, eyes cold on him, and that gave him even more fuel to burst.

“You’re a spoiled brat who ran when your people most needed you and still stays hidden! You’re hiding like a rat, you aren’t a  _ ruler _ .”

If Keith had been paying attention to anything but the royal ahead of him, he’d have noticed he’d already pushed Coran to the side with so much strength he’d fallen on his back. He’d have noticed the growing noise of thuds, something large and heavy hitting wood.

Before he continued to yell, he was pushed to the ground. He couldn’t make out at first what the hell it had been. But it was heavy, it had hurt. Whatever it was it held his arms against the hard ground with enormous strength and now his shoulders ached with pounding pain. It was… warm? 

“ _ Red! _ ” He heard Allura’s alarmed voice.

Keith slowly slit his eyes open, gazing at whatever was above him. Whatever he saw filled his blood with adrenaline. His eyes were shot wide and held his breath like his life hung on a thread and any noise would tear it apart. 

It had a mouth. It was wide open at him. Keith could see the long yellow teeth up the creature’s jaw while its tongue slowly retreated back to its mouth. Keith took what he imagined would be one of his last moments alive to study the animal. It was huge. Its front paws held Keith to the ground, but he could see the creature’s back paws were at least two feet past his own. 

A lion. A giant lion. Its fur was reddish brown, and where the light touched it, it was near a bright shade orange. It had a fairly short puffy mane and fur. But what kept Keith’s breath in his lungs and his blood cold were the creature’s eyes. They were golden. Not bright yellow like gold itself, but rusky gold, deep, profound. 

It didn’t take him too long to realize the beast’s eyes were on himself. It stared quietly at him, its mouth now closed as if it studied the human beneath it. That’s when the funny thing happened. Keith felt something inside his chest tighten, it was…  _ anger _ . But not the fiery feeling of fury and need to outburst he was just feeling before. It was a quiet anger and it felt more like someone had offended him deeply, insulted his origins. 

Then he realized. Those weren’t his own feelings. This wasn’t a common lion on top of him. This was a lion of Voltron. And it was speaking to him. Reaching out to share its own sentiment. And Keith had absolutely no idea of how he could know that. But he just did.

“I wasn’t hiding here because I was scared for me.” Allura’s weirdly calm voice brought Keith back to reality. She had stood up, picking up her dress’ edges. She slowly paced closer to them.

“Get off him, Red. I’m fine.” Allura said softly in a tone that sounded almost motherly. She stood closer to the lion and ran her hand through its mane.

The lion took a few seconds longer than necessary to obey the princess. During that brief period of time, he kept his eyes locked on Keith who couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Keith took that as a well given threat, he could see it in the creature’s eyes it’d jump on him if laid a finger on Allura. And this time, it wouldn’t stop. The lion retreated slowly, taking its paws off Keith’s shoulders.

“Do you remember my lioness, Juniberry?” Allura asked with a low voice, looking down at Keith. She didn’t wait for an answer.

“Lord Zarkon of Daibazaal had killed most wild Voltron Lions for the researches his wife Honerva leaded. His own Lion had perished in her experiments. But he kept hunting them, capturing them, and most of them died at her table. However, some of them became very aggressive. Out of control. They attacked several Galra scientists before they could be stopped.” Allura spoke idly while looking at some spot ahead of her. Her eyes were out of focus. She walked past Keith in slow steps. Keith wouldn’t dare move on his own after the lion was fully off him, so he was more than thankful when Coran reached out a hand for him. He took it gladly and stood up with much effort. He could feel Red’s eyes on his back.

“No one could possess a lion anymore, no matter the purpose. They were too powerful to be tamed by the wrong people. However, when my father prohibited the possession of lions and ordered the slaughtering of them, he opened an exception for Juniberry. He couldn’t bear the weight to put end to such a wonderful species of magical creatures by his orders. Because of human’s ambitions.” Allura stopped walking by the large door Keith had seen earlier. It had a large hole on its bottom, wood being torn to shreds by claws. Red’s claws probably.

“We kept only her, hiding in the castle. One of Zarkon’s reasons to betray my father, I believe. I don’t know for sure but he probably had found out about her and was thirsty to possess the powers of the Lions, no matter the costs.” 

Red followed Allura, standing beside her. She gazed upon the door, her hands idly resting over the knob of it. The hole was only large enough for Red to go through, Keith noticed. He took a quick glimpse at the lion that had some scratches on the length of his body. Had Keith really seemed that aggressive to Allura? However, neither the lion’s or Allura’s attention were on him anymore.

“I fled with her. My father wouldn’t put his daughter and the last being of an ancient species in Zarkon’s hands.” 

“Juniberry was a white lioness, the rarest, most wonderful kind.”A short pause. “She died two and a half years ago. I couldn’t let her go in vain.” Allura’s eyebrows were furrowed in a silent sadness. She spun the a large key in a iron door lock and sighed briefly. She stood there for a few moments, fingers hovering around the key. 

She wrapped her fingers around the heavy knob and she finally pushed the door open. She was no longer sad now, her eyes gleamed with cold determination towards Keith.

“This is her legacy.” 

And the door was open. Keith’s heart sunk in his chest. If Red was scary, the other ones were very close to that. They didn’t seem as aggressive but they were still huge creatures, and it turned out Red was the smallest of them. First, there were  _ five  _ of them. They slowly walked out of the room, one by one. 

The first one was nearly the same size as red. It had a very short fur in a faded yellow color, its sharp eyes in bright green, a female lion.

Another female walked after, but it was comically larger than the one before. Keith was sure her length was longer than his height and even on four paws her height reached his chest. Her fur seemed silky, in a shade of bluish dark gray, making beautiful contrast with a pair of crystal blue eyes. 

The next lion was about the same size as the gray one, but it was a male. A glorious one. He was covered in a thick mustard fur, gleaming golden under the the candle light. Keith wasn’t surprised when his eyes were also golden.

The last one was fairly larger than the last two. A male covered in deep ebony fur, like a huge walking shadow.

The lions gathered as close to each other as possible behind Princess Allura. She looked over at them, a fond small smile on her lips. Keith was paralyzed. He  _ knew  _ the lions were staring at him. He could feel their eyes on him. Golden, blue, green, black. They stared at him like he was a prey. Then everything made sense. The smell of rotten meat in the room. The huge basement, the abandoned mansion. Why was the Princess never seen again. Creatures like that were worth more than kingdoms, what would they pay to possess them? 

These creatures had never seen the sun and there Keith was, insulting their guardian. He could feel their offended selves. Keith was wrong. Stupid Lance was right. The lions of Voltron still lived. Keith did the only thing that seemed right at the moment. 

He kneeled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so sorry for the delay! My main beta has been really busy lately so me and Mat had to work it out. Besides, also college's been a bitch but I've really wanted to post this. Anyway, this chapter was juicier than the other ones, hehe! Hope you've enjoyed <3
> 
> Besides, my friend did this GORGEOUS fanart for my birthday and I absolutely loved it!
> 
> https://lauranjarts.tumblr.com/post/177989158910/fanart-of-a-voltron-fic-broken-crown-by
> 
> Edit: Hey, guys! I was wondering if you like the way the story is being written. I feel like the plot itself is too serious sometimes and the perspective can get too impersonal but that’s just my opinions. I was thinking of maybe changing the narrative to first person, but I want your opinion on this. Whaddya think?


	4. Bloodlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance meet. Lance struggles with royals.

Lance had the slight feeling he could finally rest after arriving at Gazrel. He was wrong. 

Getting through the policies with the hosts first was something he was raised to do. First greeting the King, a senile chubby man who could barely stand on his old bones. Then, talking to his only son, who was the active ruler of Arus since his father could barely stand more than a few minutes. 

Arus was a kingdom that relied their economy almost entirely on commerce with other countries. Titles meant very little to nothing if you were poor. That’s why the current royal family happened to be the richest in the whole country. They owned virtually all the ports, banks and trade centers. So no matter what you sold or bought, the royal family would get their share of it in the taxes they charged. Therefore, even if the Allura mission was a complete failure, Lance’s meeting with the Prince was still of considerate importance.

So when the Prince invited the Blue Lord for a walk in his royal garden as soon as he set foot in his palace, how could he deny it?

It wasn’t that the Prince was annoying. However, the second his eyes were on Lance,  the Blue Lord realized he was being analyzed. Probably small talks with hidden meaning. The Prince was charming, with pleasant words and kind smiles. His eyes were in a warm shade of dark blue, in contrast with a slightly tanned skin from the sun. His hair fell in a long braid of pale gold, mixing with the delicate details of his long beige formal robe. 

“How was your trip, Lord McClain?” He had a luring voice, Lance thought. He was clearly a merchant by nature with calculated gestures and voice.

Lance laid his eyes on the landscape around him. It was beautiful. Like most royal gardens there were very large bushes with great animals and people encarved in the leaves’ cuts. Not that this garden didn’t have large bushes, but he had a feeling they were linked in some way. Tall men in differents shapes, armored with crowns made of literal flowers, shining in against the green leaves in vivid colors. Lance wondered who those men were and if they held a story.

“It was all in the expectations, Prince Biokee.” Lance replied, speeding up to follow the man by his side. “The sea was calm, thankfully.”

“Call me Aiko. Please.” Aiko showed Lance a small smile. “I hope we can become friends. Though I have a feeling this is not all you came to Arus for.” His eyes followed where Lance had once been staring.

“These are our current counselors.” He  Montgomery, Koplar and the remaining eight of them. They rule this country beside my father and me. It’s tradition that they are given green statues, for they are alive and prospering. Stone statues are dedicated for the dead here. They are also given crowns of each of their province’s color, to show they rule this country beside the king.” Aiko explained, pointing his index at the statues as they walked through the paths of the garden. Lance examined the details of the bushes, nodding slightly.

“But, as I was saying, you’re not only here to establish more routes, am I correct?” His eyes were on Lance’s again.

Lance’s eyes widened slightly, turning back to the Prince.  _ Oh _ . Did they know about Allura? Did they know about Shiro? He clenched his jaw and looked ahead with a serious gaze. Before he could say something, Aiko’s soft voice filled his ears again.

“We’ve been postponing this war since King Alfor’s death.” The Prince said calmly, his eyes ahead of them as well. He tied his hands behind his back and rose his chin. “In my country’s history, we have never got military involved in outside war. However, we have financiated many wars. Taken profit out of those.” The softness in his voice was all gone now. He seemed cold, unwavering, a royal.

“I am aware that Lord Shirogane is alive.” There it was. “If the Voltron Lands are willing to rebel against the Galra Empire, Arus is committed to provide support. In any kind.” His eyes were back on Lance, who simply expected a small talk out of this and was now cornered with the decision to trust or not a stranger.

“Zarkon is insane.” The Prince continued, cutting through Lance’s thoughts. “Once he conquers the Common Lands, he won’t settle down with only them. We have enough reason to believe that, don’t you think so? From what he’s done to King Alfor in the past.” Aiko pressed his lips shut together, a discreet sign of his distress. “My country can’t take an invasion like his. And, we could gain a lot of money from selling weapons and supplies to a war far from here. With concessions for your people, of course.” Aiko shrugged, shaking his long sleeves along in the movement. He rose his hand to stop Lance from walking, and turned on his heels to stand face to face to him.

Honestly, Lance was still in some sort of shock. This was beyond his expectations. Yes, it was good to have an ally this soon in the conflict they were beginning to plan. However, that was part of the problems, if a Prince across the ocean was already aware of their intentions, so were the Galra. Besides, he didn’t know how much he could trust this man. He didn’t seem like the truthful kind.

“Besides…” Aiko continued, his fingers playing with the edge of his sleeve. “We have a friend in common, McClain. In these foggy times, the best we can do is rely on probabilities and history, don’t you think?” His dark blue orbs were on Lance, a knowing look on them. Aiko was a handsome man with sharp features and narrow eyes. It reminded him of Keith. But now these eyes stared at Lance like they shared a secret and it freaked Lance out a little.

Lance’s jaw hung loose as realization hit him. Aiko covered his own mouth with his index, an amused expression on his face.

“We can discuss over the trading routes tomorrow. For now, you shall rest. The maids will show you to your room.” And with a sly wink, the Prince walked ahead of him headed to the palace.

Lance was left wondering about what the Prince had meant to share with him. If his suspicions were right, he had some things to work on with his mother. However, he had more urgent stress matters at that moment. For example, he spent the rest of the day in his room in failed attempts to sleep. There wasn’t much else he could do.

 

... 

 

It definitely wasn’t that he wasn’t tired. His muscles were sore, his skin was cracking dry from the intense sun during the day. His bedroom was also extremely comfortable. It had a large round fluffy bed, placed in the middle of the room, covered in deep orange silk and dozens of pillows topping it. A luxurious chandelier with candles hung above a large fur carpet of some exotic animal probably. Was this really the common guest’s room? Either the Arusian royal family was richer than Lance’s files said so or the Prince really appreciated Lance’s presence in the country. He’d rather not think about that second option.

Lance had taken a long warm bath before laying on his room’s bed and waiting patiently for Keith to return and give him news on any progress on finding Allura. They had come to an agreement Keith would sneak out of his fake knight duties and look for the princess’ location, it would get less attention than Lance doing it so himself. Once Keith was sure of it, he’d share it with Lance whom would approach the princess and persuade her into agreeing with the conditions established for their alliance. It didn’t seem hard to go asking people around _‘Hey, have you seen a missing princess and a funny looking ginger merchant?’_ , so was Keith taking so _fucking_ long?

When the sun set down, Lance was seriously considering looking for him around the city. They had set a limit. Keith had left at early morning, he’d be back before dusk. Of course he wasn’t there yet. Keith couldn’t stick to a rule if his life depended on it. If he were dead, Lance swore he would bring him back from the dead only to yell at his face.

Lance had gotten up from the bed and started pacing around the room, chewing on his nails viciously. He was about to reach his thirty walk across the room (yes, he’d been counting), when he heard the knocking on the door. 

He sprinted toward the door, almost tripping on the carpet. He stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. Maybe it wasn’t Keith. Maybe it was a maid, or the Prince, he couldn’t look all that desperate. He wrapped his fingers around the knob and opened the door slowly.

It was Keith.

Lance felt a vomit of words go up his throat.  _ Are you crazy? Have you had any idea of how worried I was, idiot? Has your mullet drained energy from your brain or are you just extra reckless than your usual self today? Don’t scare me off like that anymore, please.  _

All of those words died at the tip of his tongue when his eyes laid on Keith’s open cut in his cheek. It was ugly. It didn’t seem deep enough for stitches and it wasn’t bleeding anymore. But it was raw, mostly open and it wasn’t done by someone with peaceful intentions. 

“How did you get that? Are you okay?” Lance muttered, speaking his thoughts out loud. He knew his eyes were struck wide. He rose them to look straight into Keith’s.

Keith clicked his tongue annoyedly and ducked his head. He avoided touching Lance side and hurried inside the room. Lance’s head followed Keith during his walk while his hand unconsciously locked the door behind his back. Keith walked in heavy steps, his body stiff. Lance could see it in the way his jaw clenched hard even from a distance from the door. He quickly sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his face and up into his hair, pulling all his bangs away from his face. 

Lance quietly observed as Keith drew a long breath, shutting his eyes. He opened his black purplish eyes and landed them on Lance. He seemed no less stressed than when he rudely passed through Lance at the door. He’d had a hard day, Lance could tell.

“We have a lot to talk. Little time.” Keith breathed out as he massaged his temples. His words were firm and bitter,

“Wait, wait, wait, Keith. Hold up.” Lance shook his hand as he searched the room looking around for a place to sit. Keith was probably bothered by something unrelated to the mission. He was more stressed than in a hurry. If Keith’s main focus was that there was little time, he’d started talking as soon as he entered the room and held Lance by the shoulders to make sure he was listening to him. Or had started acting on his own and wouldn’t even be here with Lance, anyway. 

Lance lifted a fluffy orange armchair that stood close to the bed and dragged it until it was in front of Keith. He dropped to the chair unceremoniously, letting out a loud huff. He spread his legs out briefly and inhaled deeply, gathering enough patience to do what he was about to do. Something was clearly bothering his emotional lover and he had to dig it out of him. He opened his eyes abruptly and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees so he’d be at eye level with Keith.

“Are we in imminent danger?” Lance’s voice came out as calm and monotone.

Keith seemed to spiritually jump out of his body and then return, not physically showing his distress but Lance could feel it from the way he looked at him. His eyes were cautiously wide and he spilled words fastly.

“What? No, no one is following us here unless this place is already-” 

“No, no. The King means no harm. I believe.” Lance added as a correction, earning a quirk of an eyebrow in response. “We’re good here. Trust me. So, today’s mission report can wait a few minutes, right?” Lance asked, holding out a hand to caress Keith’s fingers over the thick leather gloves he wore. Before Keith could speak again, Lance cut in sternly.

“Calm down, first, okay? Something’s bothering you and it doesn’t seem to be the mission itself. Tell me what it is, please. Even if it’s completely unrelated to it, we can’t have you like this during something important. Alright?” 

Lance tangled his own tan fingers around Keith’s ones, nervousness finally hitting him. Had he jumped to conclusions? Perhaps Keith was really just stressed from the long day. Perhaps Lance was seeing too much into things. Perhaps there was actually little time.

He looked up to Keith expectantly only to meet Keith’s frozen expression looking down. It was unreadable. His eyes were slightly widened and were unfocused laid upon their tangled hands. His fingers were loose against Lance’s grip. If Lance didn’t known Keith any better he’d think he’d cracked him. However, he could tell Keith was probably  _ considering _ his own request at some level in his mind.

It took a few seconds, but suddenly Keith’s fingers curled around Lance’s with enough strength to hurt his hand. However, Lance honestly didn’t care. He was more concerned about the look on Keith’s face and what it meant.

Keith’s eyes met Lance’s. They were dark. Not in the alluring way his purplish eyes usually were. He looked  _ tired _ . Keith bit his lower lip and chewed it briefly, before breaking out a sigh. He relaxed his grip on Lance’s hand, fingers now just lingering against his hand. His shoulders slouched down and his eyes drifted away to somewhere away from Lance.

“Do you think I’m a  _ bastard _ ?” His voice was only a tone above a breath, hushed. If Lance wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t have heard.

There it was. Like a stone. Keith’s voice was low but Lance could feel the weight of his words.

“As in... Former Lord Kogane would not be my real father.”

Keith looked… defeated, honestly. His voice was cracked and low, as if the words were slipping out of his mouth on their own without his walls. He must have been pretty broken to bring up a subject everyone was aware of but had pushed it away during his entire life. The puzzle pieces began gathering together in his mind. Lance’s eyes quickly roamed Keith’s face for any improbable signs of a joke, but they never came. Then it clicked. He’d met Allura.

Shiro had seen it coming, bringing out Lance’s silent suspicions to words. He was the oldest of all Voltron Lords so he’d met and known Allura more than any of the others. He  _ knew _ she’d behave like this. That’s why he sent Lance to lead the mission, not Keith. His insistence on coming made Shiro afraid of something like this happening. And he was right. Lance should’ve been more careful. 

Lance sighed heavily, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he opened them and made sure to keep his most serious yet soft expression. Keith needed his honesty, but he also needed comfort.

“Can I be really honest with you? I probably should, right?” Lance started out with a quiet voice. His hand had never left Keith’s. He looked down at the leather covering Keith’s fingers and caressed it with his own slender ones.

Keith looked at him, slightly confused.  _ Of course  _ Lance had to be honest with him, that was obvious. 

“Regardless if it’s true or not, Lord Jeong Kogane raised you as his son and named you his heir. He’d known about this rumor since you were born, and he raised and loved you anyway.” Lance stared at Keith straight in the eyes, looking the most empathetic he could. He could feel his own face frowning in concern. At the mention of his father, Keith’s expression began to mirror his own. He bit the inside of his cheek and keep waiting for Lance to continue.

“So did your people. Rumors like this spread like fire. And they still know of this rumor. However, nothing has ever happened to show your people disapproving of your lordship, your management, your strategies. It may be hard for you to believe but even I had some complaints on how I handle the coast trading markets.” Lance used his free hand to adjust a strand of black hair behind Keith’s ear as he showed off a small smile. Keith snorted out a short huff of breath, looking away. Lance watched his shoulders slouch with less tension. Lance counted it a win. Keith kept his eyes away at some point in the bedroom, the wound of his face fully out in front of Lance now.

“Then I ask you. If a senior old princess who has left her kingdom in times of crisis and never sat in a ruling position comes to say shit about your origins, would you let it get to you like this?” Lance laid his other hand upon Keith’s and held it tightly, bringing the hand closer to his mouth. His eyes were locked onto Keith’s gaze so he watched Keith’s eyes wide in slow motion. Keith quirked an eyebrow in a mix of shock and confusion.

“How do you know it was-” He began babbling, but Lance wouldn’t let him finish a question he’d already had the answer for.

“I had my suspicions given the Altean’s  bloodline history. And so did Shiro who actually got to know her when she was younger.” Lance said quickly then exhaled a deep breath. “I should’ve told you, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d actually get to meet her before I did.”

“So you just didn’t tell me?” Keith’s surprised expression was fastly replaced with one beginning to overflow with anger. His forehead slowly wrinkled and he retreated his hand back abruptly like Lance’s skin was suddenly on fire. Betrayal.

Lance swallowed the guilt, and lifted both his hands as a request for Keith to calm down. “I didn’t lie, Keith.” He explained slowly. “I wasn’t sure of how she would react neither was Shiro, I barely spoke to him about it. I didn’t want to worry and stress you with what I wasn’t sure it was necessary.”

“Well,  _ congratulations _ . I’m completely fine and stress-free now. Can’t you see it?” Keith blurted out, his features stiffening with his anger as he rolled his eyes. His fists were closed on his sides and his jaw was clenched. He stood up abruptly and began storming out of the room.

“Hey!” Lance’s hand was around his wrist before he knew. He was standing up now as well and Keith gave Lance a side look and that was definitely the most hurt he could take from Keith without crying himself. He’d just opened an old scar and Keith looked the most vulnerable Lance had seen on him in a long time. Specially when he was aware it was his own fault.

“I’m sorry.” He declared with a loud sigh. “I should have told you. I was scared of facing you about it when I thought we could avoid in first place.” A short pause. “But I shouldn’t have hid it from you when it was this important.”

After long instants, Lance felt Keith slowly relax under his touch. His shoulders slouching down. His anger melting away. A loud breath leaving his lips. But he still didn’t look at Lance.

“I’m sorry too.” Keith murmured, soft words above a whisper. “Today was… a shitty weird day.” He turned back to Lance, his eyes hesitantly going up to meet his.

Lance bit his lip to hold back a few questions. He couldn’t ask Keith about it now. Keith rarely acted like this, he clearly had been shaken in bad ways. His fingers slipped down to curl around Keith’s fingers and tug them with a tender grip. “Hey. Let’s sit. We have the whole night.”

Keith’s grayish eyes fell to where their hands met. As if it was the first time they had touched each other in months. He stared at them momentarily with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, he pressed his lips into a thin line, the muscles in his cheek moving.

“No.” His tone was final. “Allura said she’d think about the matter.” He spoke bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he set his gaze on Lance. “And that she’d contact us tomorrow.”

“How?” Lance asked, frowning in confusion before he could restrain himself.

“Coran is with her. So he’s the one that’s probably making that contact. But that’s not the most important thing.” Keith quickly shook his head, as if trying to focus on the matter at hand. “The Lions of Voltron aren’t extinct. She has five of them. She brought her white lioness with her to this country and it gave birth to the other five lions. One of each kind.”

Lance blinked. Then blinked again. His brain was on freeze. Lions? Of Voltron?  _ Five of them _ ? Was Keith kidding? He slowly opened his mouth while his brows furrowed in utter confusion. His fingers were tight against Keith’s wrist and his eyes roamed every feature of Keith’s profile, searching for answers. Keith’s dark eyes were narrowed lazily, his expression torn in a bitter feeling. No, it wasn’t bitter. It was fear. 

Lance took every last bit of reason in himself to make the most coherent word he could at the moment.

“ _ What _ ?!”

 

...

 

“It makes sense.” Lance mumbled to himself, cupping his own chin with his hand. He had been pacing around the room during the whole time Keith had been monologuing about the events of the past day.

It was deep into the night now. Keith had gotten rid of most of his armor as well as his shoes, making himself comfortable on the bed. He was sprawled across it, arms over pillows and cushions and feet dangling out of the bed, limbs probably tired worn off from restlessness. He stared at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

“And do you think they are spying on us?” Lance questioned, looking at Keith side-eyed. He had never heard of the Blade of Marmora before and the mention of it and how much they knew about Keith and himself frightened him.

“They surely are, dumbass.” Keith groaned,  wrinkling his nose. He didn’t move an inch beyond that, eyes still fixated upon the large candle chandelier.

“About you being here isn’t exactly a very well kept secret. Most of my personal knights  know you from past meetings. Also, you’re a known lord, someone from the Common Lands could be here and have recognized you.” Lance was definitely thinking out loud now. He picked on his nails, seeming to focus in on hands with a wrinkle on his forehead. “However… how do they know about the Allura mission? They can have a spy inside the castle. Or inside my ship. Or… unless…” He suddenly stopped his fidgeting, eyelids staying still in their place.

The sudden long pause was enough to make Keith suddenly pay attention to his movements. He propped himself up on his elbows and rose his head to look straight at the Blue Lord. His gaze was now intense on Lance, suddenly very interested in the matter at hand.

Lance took a quick glance at the man on his bed before walking back to it. His arms were crossed tight on his chest and he stared at the odd orange exaggerated patterns on the carpets. He sat on the edge of the bed, as stiff as a rock, eyes still on the floor. He had his back turned to Keith, but could feel him moving while slouching closer to him.

“Mother’s informant.” Lance muttered, leaning his lips against his thumb and pulling it slightly.

“What?” He heard Keith ask, voice getting closer to him. The silk of the sheets around him shifted with Keith’s movement.

“Mother’s informant.” He repeated again, louder and clearer this time. “He lives in Arus. He’s the one who told us about Allura’s whereabouts, in the first place.”

“Can we go check on him? Who knows how many informations he may have leaked out about us. Is he far away?” Keith pointed out with a tone Lance couldn’t identify. He was leaning closer to Lance’s right shoulder. 

Lance was finally dragged out of his trance and rested his gaze on Keith. He was the perfect mix of curiosity and caution at the moment, a very small pout on his lips and attentive eyes. The cut on his cheek was dried now and properly cleaned. During the time they spent telling each other about the events of the day, Lance had asked for a bowl of hot water and took his time helping Keith out.

“No, no.” Lance shook his head haltingly. “Besides, we don’t know where he lives.” He admitted in defeat with a quiet sigh. He saw shock reach Keith’s expression buy it was quickly replaced with irritation. He could already feel Keith’s next indignated question so he continued explaining. “We don’t know where he lives, because he claims to move a lot. He isn’t a lord or anything. But he’s very known. Prince Aiko knows him, by the way. He made it clear in our conversation today. Friends in common, he said.”

“And you rely on his informations to very important missions with the fate of our country and lives at hand?” Keith asked, leaning his head to rest his forehead on Lance’s shoulder. 

Lance stared at him for long moments, before raising his hand to fondle Keith’s hair edges. His fingers twirling in Keith’s dry locks put him at ease. 

“Slav. His name is Slav. He’s trustworthy. Mom has known him since I was a child, but this is the first time we brought his informations at discussion for the exact reason that we did not trust him before. But everything he’s ever told us checks out. Besides, as far as I know, we didn’t tell him about our decisions regarding the Princess.” He said calmly.

Lance’s fingers were long, thin. He used to hate them when he was younger.  _ Hands for knitting, not fighting, _ his father used to say. But he grew to like how they contrasted with Keith’s skin and fitted well below his jaw.

He drew a lazy line with his thumb from Keith’s nape to his earlobe and jawline. He dragged his fingers along Keith’s cheekbones and placed his hand there. Keith had clearly forgotten about the subject they were talking about, shutting his eyes peacefully and leaning against Lance’s touch. They had both stayed up all night talking about war, and old princess and a flirty prince. They could use some rest.

The action gave Lance space to analyze the rip Coran Wimbleton had made on Keith’s face. It wasn’t deep now that he could see it from this distance, however it was fairly large. It started at his jawline and reached out to his cheekbone in a triangular shape. It almost looked like Keith had sensed the cut at first and rapidly leaned out of it, thinning the wound out as further as it got from the jawline. The blood was in a deep shade of red, almost black, tainting his pale skin in a reddish tone around it. Lance would keep the memory of the fresh wound to himself forever. Not because he liked to see Keith hurt, never. But he admired how every single of his scars had a history of its own. That one on his left forearm from when Lance almost beat him in sword practice. That one on the top of his bare foot from when the two of them ran down a rocky hill too fast. That burnt spot on his left hand from when he first tried to forge a metal piece and didn’t wait enough. This last one Lance had only heard its story when he’d asked about it.

It was only then an earlier thought occurred to him. He ran his long fingers down to Keith’s chapped pink lips hovering over them.

“Do you remember when we first met?” The question rolled out of his tongue smoothly, barely above a whisper.

Keith opened his eyes slowly, only enough to look at Lance through thick black eyelashes. “What...?”

“Not like when we were like super young.” Lance rolled his eyes. He could understand Keith’s confusion. The young children of the family usually travelled with their parents to meetings and stuff, however it was different for the heirs of the house. They had to stay at home often when their father left after they turned five, to learn proper lord like manners with the maesters and shit like that before they were presentable to the rest of the world. They become the representant of the house alongside their mother or other family guardian.

“I was about to turn seven. You were probably that age too, it was summer.  I remember very clearly seeing you fight with a guy who was around ten, a much larger kid. And then you kicked his knee in a cool fight move. Then hit the hardwood sword on his head with a loud clunk.” Lance’s lips curled upward at the memory but Keith’s expression only deepened in confusion, probably unaware of what Lance was talking about. From this close, Lance could see the curve of Keith’s long eyelashes hiding his big deep gray eyes with specs of purple. The small scars on his skin were a nice contrast to how delicate and sharp most of his features were. Lance observed them for a few moments before continuing his history.

“The tutors were so pissed, dragging you out of the room while the other kid was screaming his lungs out in a dramatic pain.” He chuckled then watched Keith open a small smile. Yeah, it was something he’d likely do.

“However,  my father, beside me, and said to himself: ‘ _ that kid is a talented one. Sometimes you have to use all you got, son. Keep that in mind.’  _ I remember being grumpy for the rest of the day. You just were yourself and had my father’s admiration all flooding over you while I stayed up nights reading boring books for him and he didn’t give a shit.” Lance said softly, not bitterly. It was only a memory now. He held no grudges against his gone father, that was necessary for him being the person he is today.

“I also remember him turning to your father who was watching your practice. I can remember Jeong Kogane’s face too. Thick straight orange hair, narrow ebony eyes, hard features. But he wasn’t pissed. Even with all is complaints about you being the reckless hothead you are.” Lance smirked, watching Keith’s expression melt in nostalgia. “He was smiling. It was a proud smile. Small, but the most content kind. I’ve never seen that kind of smile in my dad’s face.”

“Even if you may not have his blood. He loved you. He truly did and you know it. He did love you until his last breath. So it doesn’t matter what a fucking princess daughter born out of incest has to say about your family when he didn’t care about it.” Lance gently placed a lock of hair behind Keith’s ear. 

Lance watched as Keith’s eyes quickly roamed Lance’s expression in search for any trace of lie. He pressed his eyes shut as if he held back tears and lowered his head, leaning in closer to rest his forehead against Lance’s chest. His arms slouched around Lance’s torso, pushing them together in a lazy embrace. In response, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s head running his fingers through his hair gently, untangling any knots mildly. Keith’s hair was sweaty, dry droplets of blood sticking to some it’s edges, knots all over its extension. Lance placed a tender long kiss on top of it anyway.

He heard Keith mutter something under his breath that sounded like a ‘ _ Thank you _ ’.

They stood quietly in that position for longer than they cared to count.

 

...

 

Keith had snuck out of the room before the sun went out. He walked out of the same door he’d come from. There wasn’t many guards in the corridors at this time, and Lance’s knights’ chambers were close to his own, so he wasn’t too worried. Keith could take care of himself. 

Lance couldn’t sleep for long after. He managed to do so in the few remaining hours before sunrise, until a soft knock on the wood woke him up. Maybe it was Keith again. He hoped. But he knew it wasn’t. The sun was out and Keith wouldn’t risk sneaking out with the palace’s residents walking around.

He groggily stood up from the bed, groaning to himself in the process. He looked like he’d passed out, his casual clothes still on and a mess of his hair. 

“Yes?” He opened the door and hoped he didn’t look like he was about to kill someone, because that’s how he felt.

It was a maid, she wore a simple yet elegant yellow dress with orange details. She had her black hair tied up in a tight bun with long braids falling over her shoulders.

“Good morning, Lord McClain. I hope to not have disturbed you. But Prince Aiko invites you to soon share the morning meal with him and both of his daughters in the King’s dining room.” The woman said with a soft bow. Lance couldn’t help scowling lightly while she wasn’t looking.

“Thank you, madam. I will be there shortly.” He nodded, trying to be as polite as he could without having two days of proper sleep. The servant replied with another formal bow and left with precise steps. It took nearly all of Lance’s self-control not to slam the door shut. He was a guest in the palace, so he should follow the host’s schedule for most of the time and if the Prince had requested him in the morning, he probably should accept it. 

He inhaled deeply and walked over to the large bowl of water he’d requested earlier that night to clean Keith’s wound. He cupped some clean water into his hands and threw it on his face, dragging his wet fingers against his eyes, pulling his skin. He wasn’t exactly a morning person. And who the hell would set up a meeting in the first meal of the day? Couldn’t let his guest have a calm quiet breakfast with his knights? No, he had to go there and meet the prince’s daughters. Wait. How could the prince have daughters if he wasn’t even married in the first place? Besides, Lance had been pretty sure the prince had been flirting with him the past day. That doubt was enough to wake Lance up even if just a little.

Lance decided to wear a thin white shirt under a blackish leather vest with silver buttons. It was stitched with blue fabric details, drawing waves around the edges of it to represent his land. He also wore black leather pants and boots. It was a warm weather, much hotter than he was used to. But he didn’t have much light clothes. He ran his fingers up his hair and tried to adjust it the best he could within a short time and no bath. He took a quick glance at the mirror and he looked presentable. That would have to do.

 

…

 

The main dining hall for the royal family was luxurious, just as the rest of the palace to be honest. It wasn’t like the grand dining room Lance had come across on the way here, with four long tables crossing the room and a large high table for the royal family. No, this one was much smaller but even more extravagant. The walls were of light beige stone and it was a well illuminated room, windows with the view to the ocean filled the right side of the room and its curtains flowed inside with the wind. A couple of pompous chandeliers hung above the main table, which was made of dark wood and had multiple golden engraving matching the golden lusters. On top of the table were multiple plates of the most different types of food, from seafood to cakes and all sorts of fruits. To be honest, Lance wasn’t at all impressed. All sorts of products came to and out of this city and wouldn’t be hard for the King to have access to the best of those.

However, what took Lance’s attention the most wasn’t the environment nor the food. There were four people there. Prince Aiko sat across him, on the head chair of the table sprung lazily on top of his comfortable seat, wearing orange clothings with a beautiful long golden robe with flower and sun printings covering most of his other garments. His long blond braid fell over one of his shoulder and he rested his chin on both of his hand tied together. He did not look happy.

There were two girls sitting next to him, who Lance presumed were his daughters. However, the teenagers’ looks were completely different from one another. The one on Aiko’s left was a built girl with well drawn muscles on both her arms, who wore a sleeveless leather vest to show her strong build. She had sharp features on her face, a square jaw and reddish lips in contrast with her pale skin. But the most remarkable thing about her was her large eyepatch that covered nearly half of her face. She had long hair of butterscotch color that she wore in a braid exactly like her father’s.

By his right, was a girl of midnight skin and wearing the same styled braid falling over her shoulder in her deep black and coily hair. She wasn’t bulky like her sister. Instead she was lanky, bony fingers fidgeting with the cutlery as her bright golden eyes burned staring at Lance. She had round shaped lips and nose, gracefully matching her owl eyes. Also, unlike her sister, she wore a delicate long amber dress with multiple golden accessories, specially on her braids. 

Lance expected to see those people. The Prince and his daughters. However, what he didn’t expect was to see a thin man standing beside Aiko with the posture of a butler. He wore a long brown robe with its collar up and a white shirt beneath it, as well as brownish pants and long black boots. The stranger had a prominent ginger moustache and fairly long hair tied in a ponytail on the back of his neck. He fidgeted with the edge of his moustache, twirling around the tip of his fingers.

_ Oh _ . The realisation hit Lance with goosebumps through his whole body. He felt his limbs numb while he stared at Coran Wimbleton. It had to be him. The blue eyes, sharp jawline, ginger,  _ that  _ moustache, come on. He was the one that had nearly ripped Keith’s face in half, the one that almost  _ killed  _ him. Keith had made sure to tell Lance that Coran had been much less aggressive after he’d found out who Keith was and his intentions. Regardless, Lance couldn’t help the craving to pull his eyes out of his skull. However, the most Lance did to show his hostility towards Coran was narrow his eyes.

“So Slav had told you about Princess Allura.” Aiko was the first to break the silence after Lance entered the room. “And that was the real reason for you to be here in the first place.” He poured himself some wine in a shining goblet, watching the flow of the liquid.

Lance swallowed, trying to process what was happening urgently. Aiko apparently knew Coran. What did that mean?

“However, it surprises me you trusted such important duty to a common knight. Or is he something else? The man with black hair.” The Prince took a sip of his wine, laying back against his chair. All his hospitality and kind approaches from the past day had vanished. Aiko seemed cold and vaguely threatening.

“There’s no point in lying now.” The girl on the left pointed out harshly. She scowled with distaste at Lance like he disgusted her.

“I…” Lance began speaking, but found no words to fill the silence. What could he say? Could he reveal Keith’s identity? He was probably asleep by now. Fuck.

“Yes. He’s not my permanent personal knight. His name is Keith Kogane, the Lord of the Crimson Lands.” Lance explained, doing his best to keep his voice steady. He had tied his hands behind his back, squishing his own fingers tight.

“Coran must’ve seeked you to contact you about our attempt to approach the princess.” Lance continued his speech, trying to show some confidence. He was in danger now, this seemed more like a trial than anything. And if he was in danger, so was Keith and everyone else under his command. He couldn’t lie to the Prince about himself anymore, but he could reveal things about Coran that Aiko might have not known about to make it up.

Aiko seemed to be slightly taken back by that, like he didn’t expect that answer, raising his brows a fraction.

“Why would he come to  _ us first? _ You must be thinking.” Aiko’s other daughter spoke up, placing her cutlery gently on the table after finishing a piece of pie. She rested her chin gracefully on both of her hands. “Haven’t you wondered all these years what stopped us from hunting Princess Allura down and selling her off to Emperor Zarkon, McClain? I’m sure we, as a  _ nation _ , could get a good fortune from it, specially with a Lioness of Voltron.” 

“Please, Victoria.” Aiko rose his hand to the girl as a gesture to silence her. He straightened himself up against his chair, adjusting his arms on the chair.

“Lord McClain, you may sit. This is not a trial and you’re still our guest, even if your intentions were dishonest.” He gestured to the  empty chair beside the girl who’d just spoken. Lance hesitantly walked toward the chair, trying to fight off the shaking of his legs. After he’d sat on the chair, he observed the Prince who seemed to be slightly more relaxed.

“Let me introduce you to the others at the table. These are my daughters. They are indeed adopted before you question. I don’t believe blood bonds necessarily make good heirs. My daughters have been talented since they were children. This is Ceres Victoria, my oldest daughter and the current Master of Coin.” He gestured to the girl sitting beside Lance who smiled proudly at him. Her big honey eyes and smart cocky attitude slightly reminded him of… Never mind.

“And this is my youngest daughter, Diana. She’s the Lord Commander’s personal squire, a royal knight and is on her way to become his successor.” The girl in front of Lance nodded stiffly as her titles were said.

“And you must know Coran Smythe already so I don’t think introductions are necessary.” The Prince waved his hand in the direction of their other guest.

“So. We have been hiding Princess Allura in the city since she’s arrived here.” He declared, confirming Lance’s suspicions. “Protecting the neighborhood, changing rumours, investigating every Galra that steps on this land. She could be safer if nobody knew where she was or if she was even alive in the first place. King Alfor made that deal with my father many years ago.” Aiko relaxed against his chair, exhaling a long sigh. 

“You want her back in the Common Lands to start this war with a decent claim. And she has accepted.” He declared, aiming his gaze at the Blue Lord. Lance could feel the shivers that ran down his spine. The Prince had lost all his warmness from the day before, his gaze was very much intense yet cold.

“However, me and her had a clear deal. I’d have the biggest lion among Juniberry’s first cubs. Since white lionesses don’t need males to procreate or something like that.” Aiko rolled his hand around in the air, swinging his long silk sleeve. “The black lion will be mine and you’re free to go. In exchange, you’ll get war supplies in the cheapest we can provide and this country shall not sell even the smallest thing to the Galra.” He stated coldly.

That was… unexpected. Lance hadn’t thought any of this this through. He wasn’t expecting her even to agree with their offer in the first place, let alone negotiate concessions for that  with someone who wasn’t the Princess herself.

“I’m afraid we can’t provide that _ yet, _ Prince Aiko.” Coran intervened, interrupting Lance’s thoughts. “The lions are still not grown adults. The lion should be with his siblings, they function better as a pack.”

Aiko simply rose an eyebrow as an answer.

“However, the pack has two females. Once they are grown and have their first breed, Princess Allura give each a lion to you and both of your daughters.” Coran continued.

“So, it’s three of them.” Diana declared, her fist clenching over the table.

“Great mastering of mathematics, sister.” Ceres spoke monotone from across the table with, deadpaning. She earned a deadly glare from her father and turned her attention back to her food.

“Why should I trust you when you can not give the  _ one thing _ you promised me?” Aiko asked flatly, gazing into Coran’s skull.

Coran straightened himself to speak again, adjusting his stands.

“Zarkon will come for you.” 

Lance spoke with certainty, all eyes in the room suddenly on him. He hadn’t even touched his food with this situation. “He will come for you if he finds out you have a lion. Especially a black one, like his own lion once was. He’ll cross the sea with an army to get it. You said it yourself, he’s insane. Also, you said that your country couldn’t take an invasion like this.”

“He won’t find out about it. I’ll make sure about it.” Aiko replied, resting his head on his chin.

“Then what use will it have? Hide it in a basement like Princess Allura does at the moment. Anyone seeing the supposed extinct species of powerful Lions will make a fuss about. It’ll be nothing but a waste of meat. And a problem. They are huge creatures. Hiding one inside a palace is a hard job. If anyone finds out about it and ends up telling the Galra, they will come.” Lance spoke, resting his hands on top of the table and leaning in against it.

“Consider letting us take the five of them.” He continued. “You’ll spare yourself this problem, will profit from a war without a drop of blood from your country. And once it’s done, you’ll get three lions. You’ll choose them yourself.” Lance spoke, not daring to look away from the Prince’s eyes. “Is it really that bad? Besides…” Lance pressed his lips shut, feeling the weight of the words before actually saying them. 

“We can negotiate a marriage with one of your daughters.” 

Aiko was silent for a moment. He had a flat expression, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand and tapping the table’s surface with his free hand. It was almost as if he was bored. Then, a grin spread across his face and he snorted a short laugh under his breath. He lowered his head to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning his forehead against the back of his hand.

“We won’t negotiate such thing. Ceres and Diana aren’t cattle. They’re only sixteen and fifteen, for fuck’s sake.” Aiko inhaled a sharp breath then adjusted himself on his seat straight, tying his hands together on the top of his knee. His grin was replaced with a smug twitch on the corner of his lips. “But… I’ll let them both participate on your other proposals with me. They’re heirs to the throne, after all.”

He looked at his youngest child, and tilted his chin toward her in a gesture for her to speak. Diana swallowed dry, turning her head toward Lance so quickly he could swear he heard her bones crack. 

“If you do not keep your promise, you’ll have another war to face.” She wrinkled her nose briefly. “I say ‘yes’.”

Aiko shifted his head toward his oldest daughter, sitting by his right. Ceres didn’t even exchange a look with her sibling or father, she stared directly at Lance.

“You’ll buy from this country for all supplies we can provide you.”

Lance nodded without second thought at her words.

“Yes.” She said calmly then turned to face her father. 

All eyes were on Prince Aiko. This was it. The war against the Galra started in that moment, regardless of his answer. Lance’s heart slammed against his rincage in rapid beatings. He dared not to breath. No one dared to make a sound.

The Prince leaned against his chair, resting along its length. His sigh and breathing were the only sound of the room for a few seconds.

“We have a deal.”

 

**—//—**

 

The wind was colder than she remembered. Allura had little belongings left from six years ago when she’d left her country so she’d settled in taking only some common garnements the Prince and Lord McClain had provided her. She wore one of her remaining dresses, one of a light shade of pink and a golden belt of metallic flowers that hugged her waist. Her long sleeves hung below her hands and the dress’ edges draped against the wooden floor. Even if the dress covered her full body, except for a discreet cleavage, she was  _ very  _ cold. If she didn’t have self-control, she’d most likely be trembling. 

Coran had braided her hair as a crown, letting most of it down falling in gracious curls covering her shoulders. It did little to actually warm her up, but it protected some of her exposed chest from the cold breezes so she was thankful for it. She inhaled a deep breath and took a glimpse of her surrounding on the ship.

It was a calm day, however the soldiers seemed to be in a hurry. She rose her gaze and noticed it was near midday. The sun shone brightly on top of cloudless sky. It was a warmer day than the past ones had been as they approached their destination. Yet, it was still cold. She hated these northern lands. Or seas, she supposed.

She was so engulfed in her own thoughts and stopping herself from shaking, she didn’t notice the man that approached her. She quickly turned her head to see Lance McClain standing beside her, resting a hand on the ship’s handrail. 

“Forgive me, Princess, but you seem to be cold. I was wondering if you’d like something else to wear.” Lance offered with a small gentle smile.

Allura was suspicious of the offer, to say the least. Coran had told her before Lance McClain hadn’t been exactly okay in their meeting in Gazrel. However, she didn’t expect less, considering the things she’d told Keith Ashes. She couldn’t help it. Keith’s origins were… controversial, to say the least. The rumour that his mother, Akira Kogane, had laid down with a Galra man outside of her marriage with Jeong Kogane was most likely certain. Both of them had red hair as it was tradition in the Crimson Lands for the noble family to be kissed by fire. How could he be believed to be Lord Kogane’s first son? His mother hadn’t made it through the labor so the world would never know the truth. 

In Altea, such thing would never be allowed. Blood purity was of utmost importance. The elderly told the young of stories about how the Alteans had arrived at the new continent as a huge clan of related people, the Clan of Altea. As the decades went by, the Alteans befriended the neighboring villages and cities. For generations, they forged their alliances in the new land mostly through marriage. Their descendants lived on what would become the Land of Altea. However, one part of the Altean clan had never, in their whole history in the continent, had children with people outside the clan. They were the pure Altean ethnicity from their true home island that had been long lost. That was the Altean royal family, the purest blood of the Altean people.

Allura’s parents, King Alfor and Queen Melenor, were twins and the oldest of their siblings. The royal family was quite big, a handful of cousins, uncles and aunts, all born out of their own relatives. 

Allura was five years old when her mother passed away. It was expected of her father to marry any of her younger cousins or even herself. He refused, of course. They were too young, just a little older than she was at the time. Because of that, King Alfor decided Allura would be his one and only heir and he’d no longer wed a woman. 

The purity of the royal family’s blood was taken so seriously that any bastards born out of the family would be executed immediately, if they were even allowed to be born in the first place. Some of them would just execute the women right after they found out about the pregnancy. Even if the woman was a royal. It was the law.

For all Allura knew, all of her relatives had perished in the war against Zarkon. Or rather, in his massacre of the Altea population. So yes, Allura wouldn’t easily accept a Galra bastard in a position of power. It was against all she had been taught and believed to be right. She recalled the day her father had told her about the first born son of Jeong Kogane and the look on his face. He seemed sad. That had left a six-years-old Allura very confused. How could someone be sad about a new born baby? 

“Princess?”

Lance’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. He looked at her as if he expected her to say something and that’s when it occurred to Allura she hadn’t given him a proper answer yet. Way to go, Princess. Her expression remained still, pressing her lips in a thin line.

“Pardon me. I was distracted.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I would appreciate it.”

A gentle smile crossed his face as he offered her a hand. He did not wear his armor that day. Instead, a long blue coat hung above his shoulders, contrasting with a white shirt. It was simple, yet it suited him for a Lord. 

Allura took his hand covered in a black leather glove. She rested her arm on top of his, waiting for guidance to wherever he was planning to take her to. Even Lance’s gloves were cold yet it didn’t seem to bother him. She felt a sting of envy at that. At least, there wasn’t much wind down there.  _ Ugh _ , North people.

The lions looked peaceful. On the first week of travelling, they were insufferable. Feeding them was terrible experience, specially if Allura wasn’t there to contain them. Because of the lions and the long trip, Lance McClain had purchased two other huge ships in Gazrel. Two of them were in this ship with her and himself, the other three were in one of the new ships with Coran and Keith Ashes, as one of its captain. The third one had one of Lance’s most trusted knights as captain and it was simply there to carry most of the supplies for the other two ships of the fleet. However, most of those supplies were nothing other than small livestock such as chickens and rabbits. Keeping the lions fed enough not to attack any of the crew members was indeed a hard task. They had to exchange living animals between the three ships of the small fleet on a daily basis. 

“They are calm today.” She commented, approaching the rusty cell Blue had been locked in. The feline rose her head from her comfortable sleepy position on top of her paws to stare at Allura. Her shimmering blue orbs locked with Allura’s gaze then moved to Lance, placing her suspicious attention on him. From all of Juniberry’s cubs, Blue was the one who most resembled her mother. Not in appearance, because not one of them looked like her at all. Blue was like Juniberry because she was very graceful and by far, the most affectionate. She was gentle with her own siblings and Allura and Coran. And that was one of the reason of why Allura had such a tight bond with her. Blue used to lay down closer to Allura as often as she could back at Arus, often lick her hand. Allura probably couldn’t handle this trip well if she wasn’t around.

“They were just fed.” Lance gestured to a pile of bones that Yellow idly played with from across the ship. “The poor chickens were gone in minutes.” He wrinkled his nose softly as he watched Yellow toy with the carcass, smashing a fragile chicken bone with only the weight of his paw. Yellow was a majestic golden lion, strong and heavy enough to kill someone by merely standing on top of them. It was a funny scene to watch him play with bones smaller than his own paw.

“I fear they might run out of shape here. Only eating and sleeping. Even if they’re eating less than usual.” Allura spoke, crossing her arms over her chest hoping to warm herself up. “Coran and I walked them inside the mansion during nighttime. Also to let them breathe some fresh air. It was hard enough for them to be locked inside a closed building for most part of the time when they’re such wild creatures. Could you imagine what would happen if we kept them locked in all the time?” She hadn’t even realized she’d began to ramble on, eyes on Blue as the lioness adjusted herself to rest her head on her paws again. She didn’t even notice the servant approaching Lance with a long thick white fur pile in his arms. The man handled it to him with a bow then left quickly to do whatever chores he was signed to.

When Lance held it up, Allura could see it was a fluffy cloak, length nearing the floor. It was for her. Before Lance could offer himself to help her dress it, she walked to stand in front of him. He didn’t make fun of her urgency, just pushed the cloak closer to Allura and waited for her to pick it. Allura wrapped the fur around her shoulders and immediately felt the relief, a sudden warmth covering her shoulders, arms and back. She found it odd that said to be perfectly charming and polite, Lord McClain, didn’t offer to help her dressing it, but she made no comment on it.

“Better? We’re more into the North now, it only gets colder from here. I’m surprised you managed to handle it this long with a summer gown.” He said with a small smile on his lips.

Allura nodded politely and responded the smile with one like his own. “Much better. Thank you, Lord McClain.”

“You’re my guest and Princess. I should’ve done it sooner.” He waved it off, making circles with his hand in the air. There was a small thoughtful pause from him as he watched Yellow smash another pair of bones with his teeth. “However, that’s not what I intended to discuss with you about, my Princess.” 

“And what would you like to discuss about, Lord McClain?” Allura asked, her formal posture and tone back unconsciously.

“Keith Kogane.” He spoke with caution, eyeing her with analytical eyes.

“ _ Oh _ .” Allura could feel her expression dropping, she wasn’t expecting such a subject this early. However, she supposed she deserved it. “What about him?” She couldn’t bring herself to stare back at Lance McClain, so focused on Blue beside her.

Allura heard him draw in a long breath and take hesitant steps toward her. “I don’t know how much you know about us, Princess. But I can tell you, the Voltron Council does not work similarly to the your father’s one. Or how it used to work, at least.” He spoke with a monotone voice, masking any feelings behind it.

“Takashi Shirogane might be our leader, but all of us have the same power inside the council. He can’t take decisions for us without the approval of the majority. If you do wish to work with us, you’ll be heard and taken in consideration, of course. But you won’t be Queen until this is over, and during this time, we are equal. Me, you, Kogane and the rest of the council. You might be the Queen we will fight for, but we all have different experiences and voices to be heard. Keith Kogane is of important. He was raised by Jeong Kogane, one of the greatest strategists known. He’s an intelligent battle strategist and a very skillful warrior. Regardless of what you think of his origins.”

She didn’t know how to answer him. It was hard to take in his words. The worst part of it was that she knew he was right. And the guilt tightened her chest with the acknowledgement. After a few seconds of silence, Allura rose her face to look at Lance. However, he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes were on Blue, admiring her from this distance. Blue studied him back, head high and her tail swinging around joyfully. She was curious about the stranger and it seemed to be mutual.

“I know.” Allura confessed under her breath. She slowly kneeled, reaching a hand to Blue between the bars. The lioness gladly approached her, leaning her head against Allura’s cold palm. She was huge, Allura’s hand couldn’t even cover half the top of her head. No wonder it took three huge ships to transport her and her siblings. Her fur was as soft as silk and her soft purring soothed Allura enough to let her talk again. She found herself smiling at the creature.

“I know it was wrong. How I treated him. It’s just…  _ he  _ being here seems wrong to me. There’s Galra blood in his veins, and he’s the son of a betrayal. How can we trust someone like that…?” Her fingers twirled around Blue’s large ear, as the shameful confession came out of her lips. Blue responded with a gentle pur, pacifying Allura’s anxious feelings.

“We don’t know that.” Lance’s voice was low, only above a whisper. It didn’t sound like he believe what he said. And even though Allura could barely hear him, she supposed this conversation was private after all. “Despite if it  _ is  _ true about his parents, it’s not true about him. You might not trust Keith, but you might trust me about him. I’ve known him since we were children and... He’s not like that. He’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known.” It was a soft caring voice and she’d never heard such tone come out of Lance in their few weeks of travelling together.

Allura lifted her chin and took a quick glimpse of Lance, who also had his attention on the lioness. He had his weight on one foot against the edge of the cell, his arms folded over his chest. His eyebrows were slightly pinched, but his eyes were sad. There was a gloominess around them. Allura suddenly felt like she was intruding in something not meant for her to see and turned her away in the direction of Blue. Her eyes wide and the color of the morning sky were staring intensely at the man. Blue didn’t speak obviously, however Allura could sense whenever Blue wanted to tell her something. But at that moment, there wasn’t need to say it. It was there.

“Lance.” Allura called, clearing her throat. “Come here. Beside me.” Her gaze didn’t waver from Blue’s in any moment. Allura spotted Lance’s dark boots closer to her from the corner of her eyes. “Down. Look at her.”

“What-”

“Just do as I say. I know what I’m doing.” Allura assured. She pulled her hand away from Blue slowly.

Lance was on his knees close to the Princess. He stared at the lioness with googly eyes, jaw hanging open. His hands rested on his tights, far away from nearing the cell. A few rusty metal bars couldn’t protect him from the lion if she attacked him and he was aware of that. Blue’s attention was on him, gaze locked with Lance’s. She bent her paws to stand up, the mere movement making the wood planks creak under her. 

Sometimes, Allura forgot how huge her lions were. But right now, on her knees, Blue stood nearly twice as tall as her and it was hard to forget. Her bluish gray fur seemed much darker inside a cell, under wood planks, behind bars. Her powerful aura was engulfing and oppressive, but Allura didn’t feel threatened by it. It made her feel powerful as well.

Blue paced around her cell in the tiny space it was possible for her to do so, as if she was waiting. 

That was Allura’s sign. Before she could stop herself, Allura clasped her hand upon Lance’s. He stiffened visibly under her touch, eyes popping wide in fright. “What the hell?”

“Call her.” Allura soothed him with an affirmative nod. “Her name is Blue.”

Lance opened his mouth to say something but shut it afterwards. Blue had stopped moving. Now, she fixed her eyes at him, a couple of feet apart. It was a short moment that lasted ages. The gaze they held was intense. Lance looked beyond terrified at first, his eyes so wide they could pop out of his skull. As the seconds passed, his limbs slouched down and his expression faded from frightened to curious, tilting his head to the side as he studied Blue’s face. Her large nose and long grayish whiskers. Her deep sky eyes. He inched forward toward the bars as Blue took her first step toward him.

Allura lifted Lance’s hand before she could stop herself. He shot her a look she couldn’t read. Could be fear, could be expectation. She nodded in Blue’s direction. Lance closed his eyes for a brief moment as he drew in a long shaky breath. He turned his face to Blue and slit his eyes open and it was easy to read him. Determination. He drew a short breath before calling her out, with a firm yet gentle voice.

“Blue.”

Allura watched as Blue bowed her head to look at Lance straight in the eyes. She watched as her own hand unwrapped out of Lance’s and watched it stretch between the bars. She watched as the inches between him and Blue grew shorter. She watched as Blue shut her eyes and finally leaned into his touch. She watched as a relieved smile crossed Lance’s face seconds later. She knew she'd watch them become good friends in the future.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God! I finally had time to finish this! College problems as always, guys. Anyway, this was more of a slow chapter. I planned to put more scenes here but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for so long. Anyway, here it is! Let me know your thoughts about it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. This is a work between me and my friend, who shares this account with me. We aren't native English speakers so this has been a very fun challenge for us.
> 
> Edit: If you guys have anything you wanna show me, tag me, ask me, you can post it on the hashtag brokencrownfanfic that I'll look it up. Or you can ask me on my tumblr.


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